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Tlie flash of light which rested on her was only momen- 
y, nut I saw the features of a young girl.” — Page 26. 


"THE MIST ON 

THE MOORS 

Jl Homancc of north Cornwall 


JOSEPH^HOCKING 

AUTHOR OF “THE STORY OF ANDREW FAIRFAX” 

‘‘aeu men are liars” etc. 


[SEP 30 



NEW YORK 

R. F. FKNNO & COMPANY 

1 12 FIFTH AVENUE 
London : JAMES CLARK & CO. 


V 





Copyright, 1896 
BY 

R. F. FFNNO & COMPANY 


CONTENTS, 


CHAP. PA61 

I. — How the Mist Gathered 1 

II. — A Strange Yisit to Altarnun Moors ... 13 

III. — How the Mist TL opened 30 

lY. — The Face at Dreardowns’ Window ... 46 

Y. — The Conversation between Peter Sleem an 

and Mrs. Foxwell 61 

YI. — How Matters Came to a Crisis 74 

YII. — The Prisoner’s Letter 90 


YIII. — How Joyce Patmore and Robert Tremain 

went from Dreardowns to Penliggle 104 

IX. — The Story which Joyce Patmore Told ... 119 

X. — The Journey from Cornwall to Devon- 
shire and Back 134 

XI. — The Strange Meeting on the Moors ... 150 
XIL — How the Mists were Cleared Away ... 162 





THE MIST ON THE MOORS. 


CHAPTER 1. 

How THE Mist Gathered. 

There are those who saj that the life lived 
on Altarnun Moors is very gloomy and 
monotonous. This, of course, is true when 
one considers the goings on in places like 
Bodmin and Liskeard, to say nothing of 
Plymouth and Exeter. At the same time, I 
am inclined to think that people living in 
these great towns set too high a value on 
their kind of life, and forget that the country 
places are centres of attraction, of excite- 
ment and romance. Anyhow, I claim that 
Altarnun Moors, and all that region around 
Pouter and Brown Willy, dreary and desolate 
as it may he, have had interests as exciting, 
ay, and as tragic, as those found in great 
centres of population. Hot that I am much 
acquainted with the great towns. I have 

X 


2 


How THE Mist Gathered, 


been to Plymouth and Exeter several times, 
and on one occasion I went to London. I 
do not want to go there again, however. 
There was too much noise and hurry for me. 
I never had a chance of resting, and even 
when I was tired and wanted a little peace, 
there was always something to make me keep 
on rushing about like the rest of the people. 
However, that is not what I wanted to write 
about. I claimed just now that Altarnun 
Moors and all the vast tracts of land round 
about are just as interesting as places like 
Liskeard or Bodmin, and that things have 
happened there as exciting as anyone need 
wish for. I know that in these days story- 
books are written by clever men who invent 
all sorts of exciting incidents in order to amuse 
people. But I, who tell this story, have no 
need to invent anything; and although I do 
not pretend to write like people who do but 
little else, and who, as a consequence, are 
practised hands, I have the advantage of 
them, for what I am going to relate actually 
took place. Perhaps you who read this may 
not regard it as remarkable, but the facts I 
have to tell caused no little stir in the parish 
in which I was born. ^ 

As I have something to do with thi^tory, 
perhaps I had better tell who I am, and 


How THE Mist Gathered. 


8 


Low mj path crossed that of people who 
are far more interesting than I can claim to 
be. 

Mj name is Eobert Tremain. Tremain is 
an old Cornish name, and although there are 
branches of the family wealthier and better 
known than mine, I must confess to a certain 
amount of pride because of my ancestry. 
Eosecarrol House and farm have belonged to 
our family for generations, and while we never 
claimed to rank with the landed gentry of 
the county we held our heads as high as 
those who did. Indeed, my father, just after 
I was born, determined that I should not be 
a whit behind the Magors, the Hansons, and 
the rest of them, and so, in order to add fa^ m 
to farm, he speculated with his ready-money 
on some clay works and mines which lay in 
the neighbourhood of St. Austell. He also, 
as soon as I was old enough, sent me to 
Probus Grammar School, where I was sup- 
posed not only to obtain an education befit- 
ting a gentleman, but to acquire the manners 
of one. 

What the results of my being a pupil at 
Probus School were, I will not say, but my 
father’s speculations in clay works and mines 
were anything but successful. Indeed, such 
failures were they, that on my twenty-first 


4 


How THE Mist Gatheeed. 


birthday my father asked me to consider the 
condition of affairs. 

^‘Eohert/’ he said^ after drinking a good 
part of a bottle of wine, ‘‘1 intended making 
you a rich man, and I have made you a poor 
one.” 

I was not altogether prepared for this, for 
while I knew that the clay works and mines 
had been a failure, I still depended on Eose- 
carrol, which meant a thousand acres of 
land, five hundred of which were arable. I 
knew, too, that there were several hundred 
pounds’ worth of cattle on the land, for 
while the farm was not stocked as heavily 
as it ought to be, it by no means spelt 
failure. 

So I said, What do you mean by making 
me a poor man, father ?” 

Just exactly what I said, my lad,” said 
my father, finishing the first bottle of wine, 
and opening another as if trying to keep his 
spirits up. 

‘‘ I know your speculations have failed, 
father,” I said, ^^but we’ve still got Eose- 
carrol.” 

^^No, we haven’t,” he said. 

« What ! ” 

‘‘ No, we haven’t,” he repeated. 

How is that? ” 


How THE Mist Gathered. 


5 


mortgaged — for every penny it is 

worth.” 

I knew now what my father’s behaviour 
during the last few months meant. For, 
ordinarily an abstemious man, he had taken 
to drinking heavily, and while on some days 
he seemed in high spirits^ laughing and 
shouting hilariously, at others he was gloomy 
and depressed. 

I did not speak for perhaps a minute; 
then I said, angrily, I suppose I’m a beggar, 
then ? ” 

He nodded his head, and was silent for 

a time; then he said, Unless and 

hesitated again. 

Unless what ? ” I demanded. 

You marry money.” 

I had not thought of marriage at all — at 
least seriously, and somehow my father’s 
words hurt me. Like all other lads, I had 
dreamed of the girl I was to love, and, when 
the proper time came, to marry, but to hear 
my father speak in this way seemed to wound 
whafc finer feelings I possessed. 

Marry — money,” I repeated, slowly. 
Yes,” said my father, starting up, that’s 
the only thing that can save us. Bob. Kose- 
carrol is mortgaged for all it’s worth ; I am 
in debt for all the stock would bring. Sell 


6 


How THE Mist Gathered. 


me up to-morrow, and I am not wortli 
sixpence ; and soon, very soon, my credit will 
be gone.’’ 

Do you mean to say that people know 
that— that you aren’t worth sixpence?” 

Many have doubts about it, and it might 
become known any day.” 

Then — then ” 

^^Tou are a young fellow, good-looking, 
and all that. You — ^you — but there— — 
and my father sat by the table and covered 
his face with his hands. 

My father’s sorrow drove away a good 
deal of my anger, for I was angry. To 
think that Rosecarrol did not belong to me, 
and that all the stock was practically the 
property of other people, after all my plans 
and hopes concerning it, made me feel that 
my father had acted badly towards me. And 
yet, as I saw him in his suffering and sorrow, 
the bitter feeling began to leave my heart. 
After all, he had ventured his all for me, 
and had he been successful I should have 
praised instead of blamed him. Still it was 
with difficulty that I refrained from uttering 
angry words, for I was a proud fellow, and 
hated the thought of being poor. Moreover, 
the suddenness of the blow made it harder to 
bear* 


How THE Mist Gathered. 


7 


When will — will matters come to a — a 
crisis ? ” I asked, presently. 

The fellow who has advanced the money 
on Rosecarrol may want to call it in any 
day,” he replied. 

Who is he ? ” 

^^Hezekiah Tamblin.” 

What, the fellow who went to California, 
and made money in the gold diggings, and 
who regards it as the height of his ambition 
to keep a public-house ? ” 

That is the man ; he says he keeps the 
public-house because he likes company, and 
because the farmers stop with him on their 
way to market. He farms a good piece of 
land, too ; all Tredudle belongs to him.” 
‘^But why did you go to him for money ? ” 
Because he had it, and because he seemed 
anxious to lend it to me. You see, the fellow 
wants to get a position among the good 
families for whom he worked fifteen years 
ago as a servant.” 

And what danger is there of his wanting 
to call in his money ? ” 

^^He is hoping some young gentleman 
farmer will marry his daughter, and he has 
promised £3,000 as her marriage dowry. 
When her marriage takes place you and I 
are ruined — unless ” 


8 


How THE Mist Gathered* 


Unless what ? 

You marry money. 

Hezekiah Tamblin had not long been in 
our neighbourhood, and, although I had 
seen him several times, I had never spoken 
either to him or his daughter. For one 
reason, I had not been in the habit of going 
to Bodmin market, and so never had occasion 
to call at The Queen’s Head ” on my way ; 
and another was, that I considered it rather 
beneath me to frequent wayside public- houses. 
I had frequently gone to Launceston on horse- 
back, and had met most of the principal men 
of our parish there, but did not remember 
having spoken to Hezekiah Tamblin. 

My father’s revelation, however, had made 
me interested in him ; I wanted to meet the 
man in whose power we were. I wanted to 
talk with the girl whose marriage meant ruin 
to my father and myself. 

I went to the window and looked out. It 
was a grey October day. Hear the house 
were well-cultivated, loamy meadows, but 
beyond were the wild, dreary moors so 
common in the North of Cornwall. Both 
meadows and moors I had regarded as mine, 
but now I remembered with pain that they 
were the property of a coarse fellow who had 
gone to California as a farm-servant, and 


How THE Mist Gtathered. 


0 


who had by some means made money. 
Fifteen or twenty years ago he had doubtless 
come to my father for favours ; now he was 
my father’s master^ ay, and my master, too. 
The grey autumn day was fast drawing 
to a close ; in an hour or so more it 
would he dark. Although I did not feel 
cold, a shiver passed over me; I. felt lonely, 
desolate. 

Father,” I said, ^^does mother know 
anything about this ? ” 

[N’ot a word.” 

I gave a sigh of relief. Perhaps — perhaps 
the pain of knowing might be kept from 
her. For my mother was an invalid, and 
had been for many years. When I was five 
years old my mother had nearly died in 
giving birth to my little sister, who lived 
only a few hours ; and although the doctors 
said they saw no reason why her health 
should not return to her, she was con- 
fined to her room year after year. She 
was very gentle a id very loving to me, and 
dearly did I love her. For that reason I did 
all in my power to keep her from trouble and 
pain, especially as the slightest worry caused 
her to be prostrate for days. Perhaps my 
mother loved me more than sons are usually 
loved; chiefly, I expect, because I was her 


10 


How THE Mist Gathered, 


only living child^ and because I spent as 
much time as I could with her. 

She has not the slightest idea that any- 
thing is wrong ? ” I asked^ anxiously^ after 
hesitating a few seconds. 

Hot the slightest. I believe it would kill 
her if she knew of it,” and mj^ father went 
to a cupboard and took out a bottle of 
brandy, from which he poured a quantity 
into a tumbler, and drank it at a gulp. 

It would kill her if she knew you were 
drinking so much,” I said, sternly. 

1 can’t help it,” he replied. It keeps 
up my spirits, it makes me forget. But for 
this I should have told her before now.” 

But for that, I don’t believe you would 
have thrown away your money,” I said. 

Do what you can. Bob,” said my father. 

Believe me, I am sorry for you; but do 
what you can, if — if only for mother’s 
sake.” 

What can I do ? ” I asked, angrily. 

^^You are a good-looking, well-educated 
fellow. Bob,” he cried ; marry an heiress. 
Bob ; marry an heiress, become a squire ! ” 

I saw that the brandy was getting into 
his head, and the thought of it made me 
still more angry. I dared not stay in the 
room with him for fear I should forget what 


How THE Mist Gathered. 


11 


was due to him, so I put on my hat and 
went out among the fields. 

I had not been out more than a few 
minutes before a cloud of mist swept over 
from the moors, while away in the distance 
I heard a low moaning sound, which told of 
a coming storm. 

I tried to understand what it all meant : 
Eosecarrol the property of another, while 
debt swallowed up the value of all the 
farm stock. I went into the stables, and 
saw my own horse — the best horse for miles 
around — and I remembered that he might be 
sold any day. But more than all I thought 
of mother — homeless, penniless ! I knew 
how she loved the old home. She had 
brought a good deal of money to father 
when they were married — indeed, virtually, 
Rosecarrol belonged as much to her as to 
him, and to think of the effect that the 
news of my father’s position must have upon 
her maddened me. , 

Then my father’s words rang in my ears : 

Marry money, marry money.” It seemed 
a base thing to do; and yet, as I remem- 
bered mother, I was prepared to do it — if I 
could. 

A hundred plans passed through my mind, 
but none seemed feasible. Presently, how- 


12 


How THE Mist Gathered. 


ever^ I started for a walk across tlie moors. 

I’ll see tlie man who may ruin ns any 
day,” I said. ‘^I’ll see the woman whose 
marriage means making mother homeless.” 

An hour later, the lights of “ The Queen’s 
Head ” appeared to me as I trudged over the 
prickly heather. 


CHAPTER n. 

A Strange Visit to Altarnun Moors. 

When I arrived at ^^The Queen’s Head” 
the kitchen was fairly full, but there was 
only one customer in the parlour. On 
Saturday evenings, I was given to under- 
stand, this bar parlour was generally full of 
that portion of the community who could 
afford to pay for spirits instead of beer or 
cider, but on the pr^esent occasion only one 
person was present. This was young Tom 
Nicolls, of Trewint. He was a decent fellow, 
and did fairly well with his farm, although 
some said he had hard work to live, on 
account of not being able to stock his land 
properly. Trewint was not a rich estate, but 
it would pay for farming, only report said 
that, although Tom’s father left him the 
estate, he left him nothing to work it with. 
Of course, the place was nothing to Rose- 
carrol, neither did the Nicolls family 
pretend to stand as high as mine. 

But Tom was not the only person in the 


14 


A Strange Visit to 


room. Behind the counter sat a youn^ 
woman^ perhaps twenty four or five years of 
age. She was a well-grown, buxom girl, 
with fair, fresh skin, and far from bad- 
looking. Indeed, I thought as I entered 
the room that in the whole of the district 
there was not one to compare with her. 
She smiled on me very pleasantly as I 
entered, which caused dimples to come in 
her cheeks, and made her face very pleasant. 

What can I serve you with, Mr. 
Eobert?” she said, after I had shaken 
hands with Tom Nicolls. 

For a second I hesitated ; then I said, 
hastily, Is — that is, can you tell me where 
Mr. Tamblin is? ” 

He will not be home for hours yet,” she 
said. ‘^He has gone to Bodmin, and will 
not laive there until eight o’clock. Is there 
an}^ thing I can tell him ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, never mind,” I said. I’ll stay a 
few minutes, anyhow, and I can easily call 
again.” 

‘^I’m sure father’ll be very plaised to 
see ’ee Mr. Tremain,” she said, graciously. 

And so we got to talking, and I was not 
long in discovering that she would rather 
talk with me than with Tom Hicolls, in spite 
of the fact that Tom tried to make himself 


Altarnun Moors. 


15 


very agreeable. Every time I spoke to her 
she blushed, which, I thought, made her face 
prettier than ever, while I couldn’t help 
feeling rather pleased that she evidently pre- 
ferred me to Tom. And yet I was sure that 
Tom was in love with her. It was true her 
father had been a labourer, but he had made 
money, and her dowry, or, as the Cornish 
folks called it, ^^her forfcin,” was just 
what Tom needed to stock Trewint Farm 
properly, while Kezia Tamblin was a young 
woman who, apparently, would grace any 
farmhouse in England. 

I could not help feeling, however, that 
there was something in her appearance I did 
not quite like. Her eyes seemed full of fun, 
and yet there was a look in them which 
suggested cunning. She was fairly tall and 
finely formed, but somehow her beauty ap- 
pealed rather to my lower than to my higher 
nature. There was a taint of coarseness in 
her conversation, too. Not so much in her 
Cornish dialect, I did not mind that, but in 
the thoughts to which she gave expression. 
But then her occupation was not of the 
highest nature, and it miglit be that the 
constant hearing of rough jokes from 
farmers and their labourers might have 
dulled her finer nature. 


16 


A Steange Visit to 


All tills I felt rather than thought, and jet 
I was fascinated. The fair, fresh face and 
the full, red lips charmed me. Besides, she 
was older than I, and I think that joung 
fellows of one-and-twentj are often drawn to 
women four or five years older than them- 
selves. In later years it is different. 

I stayed talking for two hours, and still 
her father did not appear. I was not trou- 
bled about this — nay, rather, I was glad, for 
his absence gave me an excuse for staying 
on. No other customers came to the parlour, 
and presently Tom, evidently much against 
his will, left us alone. 

^^Is Mr. Tom Nicolls your sweetheart?” 
L said to her, when he had gone. 

“ He would like to be,” she said, with a 
meaning smile. 

‘^That’s nothing strange,” I re lied. 

For that matter, I should think lots of 
fellows around here would like to be.” 

She looked at me curiously, and then, 
some one calling her from the kitchen, left 
me alone. Somehow the fact of my poverty 
was less galling to me now. If Kezia 
Tamblin was the real owner of Eosecarrol, I 
did not so much mind, for I felt sure I should 
be able to retain my rights there by asking 
her to marry me. This, I know, may appear 


Altaenun Moors. 


17 


vain, but I regarded her evident liking for 
me as an indication of that fact. Still, the 
thought was not pleasant to me at first. 
She was different from the wife which, as a 
boy, I had dreamed about ; but I loved Rose- 
carrol, and my father’s words still rang 
painfully in my ears. 

When I left The Queen’s Head ” I was 
under promise to visit it again soon, and for 
the first half-mile of my journey I pondered 
gravely over the question, as to whether I 
should not strike out boldly and ask her to 
be my sweetheart, with the understanding 
that a marriage should take place as soon as 
was mutually convenient. Unlike most 
youths of my age, I weighed the 'pros and 
co'Ths very carefully, but you must remember 
that the news which my father told me had 
seemed to add years to my life, and left me 
with the feeling thab in the future I must 
act for myself. Besides, I remembered 
mother, and I could not bear the idea of 
her being turned away from the home she 
loved. 

It was a dark, misty night, but I knew 
the road well, and I had gone about one- 
third of my journey home when I heard the 
sound of carriage wheels. 

wonder who’s out with a carriage 


18 


A Strange Visit to 


here ? ” I asked myself, when I heard a 
stifled scream. 

I turned towards the conveyance, and, in 
spite of the mist, saw that it was not an 
ordinary farmer’s trap, hut a close carriage. 
Knowing the manners of the whole country- 
side as I did, I was sure that it came from 
no place nearer than Bodmin, Liskeard, or 
Launceston, — unless, indeed, it was the pro- 
perty of some of the landed gentry. For he 
it understood, these were the towns nearest 
my home, and no railway was to be found 
within a dozen miles of Kosecarrol. 

Anything the matter ? ” I asked. 

What’s that ?” 1 heard a man’s voice say, 
roughly. 

I asked if anything were the matter.” 

Matter enough — we’ve lost our way.” 
know the countrj^side well,” I replied. 

I shall be pleased to give you any infor- 
mation in my power.” 

There was, however, no reply to my offer, 
and, on coming closer to the carriage, I saw 
two men enveloped in long coats, and, as far 
as I could judge, were conversing earnestly 
in low tones. 

Look here, my good fellow,” said one of 

the men presently, I want to know ” 

Jle did not finish the sentence, however, 


Altauntjn Mooes. 


19 


for lie was disturbed by a second cry from 
the carriage, a cry which was immediately 
stifled. 

No more of that,” shouted the man who 
had spoken to me, ^Hhere must be no noise.” 

Anybody ill ? ” I said ; the nearest 

public-house is ^ The Queen’s Head.’ ” 

‘^We don’t want any public-house, my 
man, and there’s nobody in the carriage 
that you need to trouble about.” 

The man spoke roughly, as though he 
were anxious to be rid of me, and yet he was 
evidently in a dilemma as to the course he 
ought to take. 

I became interested. Such an incident 
was, to say the least of it, somewhat un- 
common, and so I waited for further develop- 
ments. The occupants of the carriage were 
now quite silent save that I thought I heard 
someone gasping as if in pain. Meanwhile, 
the two men whispered together again, while 
the driver sat still and dumb. 

Unaccustomed as I was to the ways of 
certain phases of life, and reared in a part 
of the country where intrigues were few, I 
could not help being suspicious. The affair 
was evidently mysterious, and some of the 
persons concerned did not wish to be identi- 
fied. 


20 


A Strange Yisit to 


^^Well, I’m zorrj I caan’t ’elp ’ee, gen’l- 
men_,” I saicl_, relapsing into the Cornish 
vernacular^ for tes a wisht night to be out 
in when you doan’t knaw the rooad.” 

But you can help us,” said the man. 

Who are you ? ” 

“I work ’pon the farm^” I replied. 

And where have you come from now ? ” 
Brom ^ The Queen’s Head ’ down to 
Besuddle.” 

^^And you know all the places around 
here? ” 

Kw, iss^ very well.” 

“ Well, what are the places called? ” 

^^Well, there’s Altarnun, Tredaule, Tre- 

vague, Bol renter, Trewint, Bowithe ” 

Are these the names of farms ? ” 

Oa no, they be places weth several ’ouses 
in ’em.” 

‘^^But what are the names of the farms 
around here ? ” 

^^Oa, there’s Tolskiddy, Rosecarron, Be- 
suddle, Trelyon, Dreardowns, and Bol ” 

Ah, which is the way to Drea — that is, 
to Trelyon ? ” 

^^Well, ’tes ruther a bad place to vind 
from ’ere, but ef you go down this laane for 
’bout ” 

Again I was interrupted by a noise from 


Altarnun Moors. 


21 


within the carriage, a noise which, to me. 
Bounded like the cry of someone in pain, 
then the window opened, and a woman’s 
voice said, Come, Mr. Edgar, quick.” 

Both men gave an oath, which was fol- 
lowed by a hurried conversation in a whisper 
between them ; then one rushed to the 
cari’iage, while the other came to me. 

The mist was so thick around us, and the 
night so dark, that I could by no means detect 
the man’s features, but I saw that he was 
about the medium height, say five feet eight 
inches, or some five inches shorter than myself. 

This is a funny business,” he said to me, 
confidentially; ^^we ought to have arrived at 
our destination before dark, but the roads 
from Bodmin are awfully bad, the carriage 
broke down, and we lost our way.” 

This statement aroused my suspicions more 
than ever. As a matter of fact, the road 
from Bodmin is a splendid one. It would be 
next to impossible for anybody to miss the 
way, while if they had come from Bodmin 
they must have passed before The Queen’s 
Head,” in which case 1 was sure I should 
have heard them. However, I was wise 
enough to say nothing. 

“ Then,” he went on, we’ve got an old 
aunt of mine in the carriage who isn’t 


22 


A Strange Visit to 


exactly right, and the doctor at Bodmin 
Asylum says that nothing will cure her but 
a regular change of air, so we are taking her 
on to Camelford.” 

‘^Oa, then you’ve got a ticklish job, I 
reckon,” I said, with all the evident credulity 
of a farm-servant. 

Yes, we have, indeed. Which did you 
say was the waj^ to Trelyon ? ” 

I told him, just as an uneducated rustic 
might. 

And which to Bolventor ? ” 

Without showing any surprise I told him, 
although it lay in the opposite direction. 

Then he asked me about all the places in 
the neighbourhood, although I noticed that 
he took most interest in my description of 
the road to a farm called Dreardowns. 

used to have a friend living in this 
neighbourhood,” he said, and I was going 
to stop at his house to-night, but the way is 
too hard to find.” 

^^Yes,” said the other, coming to us, 
have decided to drive on to Altarnun ; there’s 
a public-house there, and we must put up for 
the night. Here, my man, is a shilling for 
you, and you’d better get back to your home, 
or you’ll get into trouble. Let me see, where 
did you say you lived ? ” 


Altarnun Moors. 


23 


I ’ave to git to Penliggle, sur/’ I replied, 
mentioning a little off farm vvliicli was a part 
of Eosecarrol Estate, and through which I 
had to pass in order to get home. 

Ah, well, I hope your master won’t sack 
you for being out so late.’’ 

’ope not, sur.” 

^^Good night.” 

Goo’night,” I replied, gravely, and then 
stumbled up the lane which led to the moors. 

1 did not go far, however. I determined, if 
possible, to see what the thing meant, 
and so, after waiting a few minutes, I got 
behind the hedge, and crept quietly back to 
them. 

I saw that the men were lighting the 
carriage lamps, and making other prepara- 
tions for the journey. 

I wish we’d asked old Sleeman to meet 
us,” I heard one say, we should have got 
rid of all this unpleasantness then.” 

Still, I think we can find the road from 
that fellow’s directions. Keep down this 
lane till we get to the moors, then follow the 
track across the moors till we come to a very 
big rock. Then take the left track down the 
hill till we get to a lane. Old Sleeman has 
got the right name for the place — it is a 
Dreardowns.” 


24 


A Steange Tisit to 


I almost wish we had kept the fellow, so 
that he might have guided us there. 

‘^That would not have done/’ was the reply; 

these fellows are always fond of talking, 
and it would end in our afPairs becoming 
known, and we don’t want that, you know.” 

Is she all right now ? ” 

Yes, she will be quiet until we get to 
Dreardowns, anyhow. How we are ready 
to start.” 

You think that fellow is beyond hearing?” 

Oh, yes, he’ll be in bed by this time. He 
suspected nothing. All these fellows are 
more stupid than the cattle they drive. 
There, let us be off.” 

Slowly the carriage rumbled along the lane. 
In several places the road was very rough, 
and once they were in danger of upsetting 
the conveyance ; but by-and-by they reached 
the open moor. I kept near, for I suspected foul 
play, and determined to know their destina- 
tion, while a great desire came into my heart 
to find out who was in the carriage. The 
man had evidently tried to deceive me in 
relation to the other matters, and I had very 
little doubt but that the story of the crazy 
old aunt was also a fabrication. 

Presently we drew near to Dreardowns 
farm buildings, and I judged by the flickering 


Altarntjn Moors. 


25 


lights that the party was expected. Drear- 
downs Farm was doubtless well named. The 
land comprising it had been reclaimed from 
the moors^ and prior to the time of its culti- 
vation was as dreary a place as could be 
found within sight of Router and Brown 
Willy. The house was built in a sheltered 
valley, which valley was so situated as to be 
completely hidden until you came close to 
it. It was an awesome, lonely spot, and 
was made, if possible, more eerie by the fir- 
trees, whose prickly foliage nearly hid the 
roomy house which the father of the 
present owner had built. I knew old 
Sleeman ’’ slightly, and remembered his 
voice as he said gruffly to the party, ^‘You’ve 
come then ! ” 

‘^Yes,’^ was the reply; ^^is everything 
ready?” 

Everything.” 

I suppose you can put us up for the 
night. I don’t feel like crossing these vile 
moors again in the dark, but we must be 
away by dawn to-morrow.” 

Iss, I spoase we c’n manage it. You’ll 
want to taake ’er upstairs to wance, I 
reckon.” 

That’s it.” 

I stood near while the carriage door was 


26 


A Steange Visit to 


opened, being completely hidden by a tree 
behind which I stood. The mist had enabled 
me to gain this position without fear of 
detection. 

The two men lifted a slight form from the 
carriage, while the farmer held a lantern. 
Perhaps Peter Sleeman was anxious to see 
the kind of inmate he was to have in his 
house, for he let the light shine upon her 
face. By so doing he dispelled whatever 
doubt I might have had about the occupant 
of the carriage being old. The flash of light 
which rested on her was only momentary, 
but I saw the features of a young girl. She 
was very pale, as pale as death, and in the 
flickering light of the candle looked ghastly. 
I was not sure, but I thought her chin was 
streaked with blood. 

She lay perfectly motionless as the two 
men I had seen on the moors carried her 
into the house, and then I saw another 
woman, much older, follow them silently. I 
still waited, hidden behind the tree, and 
listened intently, but heard nothing distinctly. 
There was a confused hum of voices within, 
afterwards heavy footsteps on some bare 
wooden stairs, and then by the light from an 
upper window I saw they had taken their 
burden to one of the bedchambers. The 


Altarnun Moors. 


27 


blind was drawn, however, so that I could 
see nothing that happened in the room. 

A few seconds later, and I heard steps on 
the stairway again, followed by the sound 
of voices in the kitchen. She’ll be all 
right now,” I heard Peter Sleeman say. 
^‘There’s a good supper on the kitchen 
table, so you’d better git it while I go and 
’elp the man to put up the hoss. I’ll be 
back dreckly.” 

I still waited while the farmer assisted in 
foddering the horse, and while he, with the 
driver, pushed the carriage into the waggon- 
house ; after this the two joined the others 
in the kitchen. 

There was a good deal of talk on various 
matters, but I heard nothing concerning the 
young girl in whose fate I had become in- 
terested. My limbs were becoming cramped 
with remaining in one position so long, while 
the mist had wetted me to the skin. I was 
about to creep silently away when the kitchen 
door opened, and one of the men came to the 
door and looked out. 

It’s as dark as dominion, Peter, and as 
lonely as death. You get no visitors here, I 
should think,” I heard him say. 

‘^Noan as you need bother about. We’m 
bettern a dozen mile from town or railway 


28 


A Strange Visit to 


station. Sometimes weeks pass and we 
doan’t spaik to nobody but tbe people on the 
place.” 

Everything is safe then?” 

Ef you’ve done your paart, it is.” 

‘^That’s all right, then. Well, I’ll lay 
down for an hour or two. We must be off 
before five.” 

All right ; I’ll be up.” 

Good night, then, Peter.” 

^^Good night, sur.” 

A few minutes later all the lights were 
out save that in the room where I believed 
the young girl was. I waited a few minutes 
and watched, but I heard no sound. The 
light burnt steadily, but there was not even 
a shadow on the blind. 'No one seemed to 
move. If death reigned supreme the still- 
ness could not have been more profound. 

I crept away like one dazed. I could not 
understand that which I had seen and heard. 
The whole matter was shrouded in mystery. 
What was the meaning of those cries ? Why 
was there struggling in the carriage ? Who 
was the young girl who was carried into the 
lonely farmhouse like one dead ? What had 
Peter Sleeman to do with it all ? 

I was young, and my nature was not free 
from a love of romance and mystery. I 


Altaenun Mooes. 


29 


imagined all sorts of possible solutions to the 
problem^ but none seemed probable. As I 
silently crept into my bedroom that night, 
however, I determined that I would solve 
the matter to the very bottom and under- 
stand what it all meant. 


CHAPTER ni 


How THE Mist Thickened, 

^^Robekt,” said my father, the folio wing morn- 
ing, I am very sorry I had to tell you what I 
did yesterday. I had always looked forward 
to your twenty-first birthday as a grand 
time in your life. I intended inviting a lot 
of people, and having all sorts of merriment, 
but I felt it would be a farce to do so when 
at any time you might be turned out of your 
home.” 

I did not reply, partly because there 
seemed nothing to say, and partly because 
my mind was filled with my last night’s 
experience. ^ 

I know it’s hard on you,” my father con- 
tinued, as 3^ou know you’ve not been home 
much. What with visiting your Encle Jack at 
Tresi Ilian, and being away at school longer 
than most young fellows, you didn’t know 
how things were going. Besides, I have 
always hoped that matters would take a turn, 
and that by the time you were twenty-one 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


31 


everything would be straight, so that you 
might begin life well. But there, I have 
done my best, and it has turned out badly.” 

But wouldn’t Uncl.e Jack have lent you 
the money, father?” I asked. ‘^Surely it 
would be better to go to him than to 
strangers.” 

No. You see. Jack and I haven’t always 
got on well together. Besides that, he was 
deadly opposed to my speculating. He told 
me 1 was ruining your prospects, and sacri- 
ficing the land which had been in the family 
for generations. Of course, I laughed at 
him, and we have had high words about the 
matter, but it has turned out that he is 
right. I think I might have borrowed 
money from him, giving the stock as a 
security, but I didn’t wish him to know that 
things were so bad.” 

‘‘And how long since you mortgaged 
Bosecarrol to Tamblin? ” I asked. 

“ Oh, it’s been done by bits. Tamblin 
took over the whole thing about a year ago. 
It was just after he took ‘ The Queen’s 
Head.’ ” 

“ But supposing Tamblin should want to 
call in his money,” I asked, “ wouldn’t some 
one else advance it ? Could you not transfer 
the deeds ? ** 


32 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


Mj father shook his head. ^^IVe been 
through the whole business, mj hoj,’^ he 
said, sadly. I consulted Lawyer Coad 
about it, and he says that no one would 
advance as much as Tamblin has done, while 
they would require a far higher rate of 
interest.” 

‘^And the mines, father, may they not 
turn out well after all? ” 

I’ve got a thousand pounds lying dead 
in East Polgooth mine, my boy, and the 
thing is knocked. Nobody would give me 
sixpence in the pound for what I have 
invested.” 

^^And is there any danger of Tamblin 
calling in his money at once ? ” 

“ He’s been giving me hints. Bob. The 
other day he told me he thought of buying 
Trewint from young Tom Nicolls, and then 
only yesterday morning, before I had this 
talk with you, he told me that two or three 
fellows were wanting his daughter, and he 
had promised her £3,000 as a fortune. I 
know what it means — he either wants the 
money or else he wants to own Rosecarrol 
out and out.” 

He never shall,” I said, grimlj. 

My father looked pleased, but he only 
said, ^^How can you manage to stop him, 


\ 

How THE Mist Thickened. 33 


Bob ? The only way I can think of is that 
you must marry money.” 

Who can I marry that has the money ? ” 
I asked^ feeling ashamed of myself as I put 
the question. 

Times are had, and ready-money is any- 
thing hut plentiful,” my father replied, 
slowly. Then, as if with an effort, he 
hlurted out, Have you seen Tamhlin’s maid, 
my hoy ? ” 

I had felt sure, ever since the day before, 
what was in his mind, and I knew, too, that 
only pride had kept him from mentioning 
her name. 

Yes,” I replied, ^^Tve seen her.” 

When ? ” he asked. I know that you 
never put your foot inside a public-house, 
while on Sundays you always go to Laneast, 
and she, when she goes anywhere, goes to 
Bolventor. I’ve asked you to go to Bolventor, 
hut you wouldn’t.” 

‘‘ Father,” I said, and I felt the blush of 
shame rise to my face, if I were to marry 
Kezia Tamhlin, would it make you safe? 
Would Eosecarrol he ours — would mother he 
saved from the misery of being turned out 
of the home she loves ? ” 

^^It would, Eobert, my son,” replied my 
father, in a hoarse voice. 


3 


84 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


And do you think she would marry me, 
father ? ” 

‘^She has seen you two or three times, 
but there’s several young farmers who would 
be only too glad to have her.” 

Seen me ! Where ? ” 

‘‘At Altarnun harvest festival for once. 
She was struck with you.” 

“ How do you know ? ” I asked, a little bit 
flattered, but a great deal more ashamed. 

“ She told her father, and Tamblin ” 

My father hesitated. 

“And have you and Tamblin been talking 
about this matter ? ” I asked, angrily. 

“ Bob, my boy,” said my father, eagerly, 
“I wanted to do for the best. I’m thinking 
about your future, my boy, and about your 

mother, too. It would kill me if — if ” 

My father hesitated, and walked to and fro 
the room. “ She’s by no means a bad girl,” 
he added, falteringly. 

It went to my heart to think of my father 
sacrificing his pride, and doing what I knew 
would be hateful to him in order to avert 
the calamity he dreaded. Then I remem- 
bered Kezia Tamblin as I had seen her the 
night before, and the prospect did not seem 
so terrible. I was young and susceptible to 
0, woman’s influence, and while I did not 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


35 


love her, I thought of her as a buxom, 
dimple-cheeked, good-looking young woman. 
Besides, she had money, and by marrying 
her I should lift the awful incubus of debt 
from my father’s shoulders, I should save 
my mother from pain, and I should secure 
my own position. 

She might refuse to have me,” I said, as 
I thought of the way she had treated me the 
night before. 

Try, Bob,” said my father, eagerly, 
try.” 

I did not reply, but walked out into the 
yard. The clouds of mist had lifted from 
the moors, and I must confess that Eose- 
carrol never looked so fair to me as it looked 
that morning. The corn had all been cut 
and carried, while what we called ‘Hhe 
Mowey” was filled with great ricks, or stacks 
of hay and corn. Away in the distance I 
saw the men ploughing in the fields, while 
the well-fed cattle and sheep mouthed the 
autumn grass eagerly. Then I looked 
towards the house. My mother’s bedroom 
window was opened. It was one of her 
‘^good mornings,” and she sat near the 
window and looked out across the meadows 
to the great wide moors beyond. 

I had been in to see her that morning aa 


36 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


I had always done when at home, so that I 
might speak to her before going out for the 
day ; but this morning I could not help going 
back to her again. 

I will not repeat our conversation, for it ill 
accords with my feelings, neither would it 
interest my readers, but that conversation 
made me desire more than ever to sacrifice 
anything in order to keep Rosecarrol. 

At dinner father and I sat alone, for while 
we often had our meals with the servants in 
the long kitchen, there were times when we 
preferred being together in what we called 
the front kitchen,” a room used as a sitting 
room and library. 

“ Well, Bob ? ” said my father, question- 
ingly. 

Do you know much about Peter 
Sleeman?” I asked, instead of replying to 
the question I knew he longed to ask. 

Kobody does,” replied my father. His 
father and he were always quarrelling, and 
when he was about two-and-twenty he ran 
away from Dreardowns. He was away for 
nearly twenty years. What he was doing 
during that time nobody knows. Some say 
he was a soldier, some that he was a sailor, 
while others hint that he went to the bad 
altogether and took to verv questionable 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


37 


pursuits. Anyhow, he came back to Prear- 
downs ten years ago, just after you went to 
Probus School, and soon after his father 
died, leaving everything to him. As you 
know, he is not married, and no one cares 
much about having anything to do with 
him.” 

I knew most of this in a vague way before, 
but I wanted to have my father’s opinion 
about him. I had an idea that he might help 
me to solve the mystery which had gathered 
around the house. 

Why do you ask. Bob ? ” said my father. 

“1 have often wondered,” I replied, vaguely. 

I suppose he’s well off, isn’t he ? ” 

^^No one knows. Some think his father 
had a good deal of money, and thus left him 
a rich man, while others think that he had a 
lot of debts when he came back to Drear- 
downs, and that he’s had a hard pull to pay 
them off. But, as I said, no one knows. 
He’s not a man I care to have anything to 
do with. He has no conscience and sticks at 
nothing.” 

Wasn’t there some story about his father 
dying in a strange way ? ” 1 asked. 

There are many who believed Peter got 
him out of the way in order to get his 
money. But old Dr. Maynard signed the 


38 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


certificate, so nothing could be said. But 
people’s tongues wagged a good deal. He 
was always a bad one. He was called ‘ ould 
Peter Sleeman ’ when he was only twenty, 
because of his curious ways. He has always 
looked old and ugly. If you think of getting 
money out of him. Bob, give it up. The 
devil himself couldn’t be worse to deal with.” 

I did not undeceive my father concerning 
my thoughts about Peter Sleeman. Somehow, 
I could not bring myself to tell him what I 
had seen, and yet my mind was constantly 
reverting to the strange sight I had seen at 
Dreardowns on the previous night. 

About five o’clock I went away over the 
moors towards Dreardowns alone, and reached 
a point which gave me a view of the house, 
while there was yet sufficient light to see it 
plainly. Never, until that moment, did I 
realise what a lonely place it was. The house, 
as I said, was so built that you had to come 
close to it before seeing it. A few fir trees 
grew around it, while the farm buildings 
were in close proximity. But there was only 
one other dwelling-house near, and that was 
the cottage of the farm workman. Look 
whichever way I would there was no sign of 
human life. Close to the farm buildings 
were, perhaps, forty or fifty acres of culti- 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


39 


vated land^ but all around was a dreary stony 
waste. A number of undersized sbeep picked 
their way among the rocks on the lonely 
moors^ while a few cattle fed in the culti- 
vated fields, but beyond that I heard and 
saw nothing. 

Perhaps,” I thought, Peter Sleeman 
will be in the house. It must be about 
their supper time now. I’ll try and find 
out.” 

Carefully I drew near to the farmstead, 
and looked intently, but no one was visible, 
while the place was as silent as death. 

Was that girl forced to go there ? ” I 
wondered. ^^What is the meaning of such a 
proceeding? Isn’t it my duty to tell of what 
I have seen ? May there not be foul play in 
the matter ? ” 

But I could not bring myself to think of 
this. What would these country people 
do? Simply gossip. If I told the parish 
policeman, he would probably do what was 
altogether wrong. 

Hidden by a hedge, I watched the front of 
the house until the light was nearly gone, 
and I was thinking whether I could not 
invent some business errand in order to see 
Peter, when the front door opened and a 
woman came out on the little garden plot. 


40 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


It was the same woman I had seen the 
previous night. I had only caught a passing 
glimpse of her then in the flickering light of 
the lantern, hut I recognised her. She was 
a woman of perhaps fifty years of age, by no 
means bad-looking, and very neatly dressed. 
Her clothes, I was sure, were not made by a 
country dressmaker ; to my rustic eyes they 
looked graceful and stylish. 

She walked slowly around the garden as 
if in deep thought,” while often she lifted 
her eyes to the window above her head as if 
to keep watch ? ” 

That young girl was brought as a 
prisoner,” I thought, and she is still there. 
What is the meaning of it ? ” 

But there seemed no answer to my 
question. The woman remained in the garden 
for half-an-hour, constantly walking about, 
and constantly lifting her eyes to the window; 
then, when daylight had quite gone, she 
opened the door, and crept silently into the 
house. 

I still waited, and listened for the sound 
of voices, but heard nothing. Presently, 
however, I saw a light gleam from the 
window towards which the woman had been 
looking, but I could see nothing, for the 
calico blind, which was fastened to a roller. 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


41 


was pulled down, thus hiding everything 
from my sight. 

A few minutes later, and it was quite dark, 
hut I still remained, and presently my heart 
beat loudly, for behind the blind I detected 
two forms. They were indistinct, however, 
for the light in the room was by no means 
bright, while the spot on which I stood was 
much lower than the ground floor of the 
house even, but I was sure they were female 
forms, while I thought I distinguished them 
as the woman I had seen in the garden and 
her prisoner. Twice they passed by the 
window, and then I heard the sound of 
voices ; the one stern and dictatorial, the other 
at first pleading, and then sobbing. 

I had a difficulty in restraining myself. 
Every bit of romance in my nature was 
aroused by the thought of a young girl 
imprisoned, and perhaps cruelly treated, in 
that lonely house. But what could I do ? I 
had no right to interfere. I had no sufficient 
grounds for taking definite action. Perhaps 
the fact of her presence there under such a 
guard was perfectly justifiable, and that if 
I interfered I should be doing harm instead 
of good. This method of reasoning, however, 
did not satisfy me. I felt sure something 
was wrong. Else why those screams and 


42 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


struggles in the carriage ? why the strange 
behaviour of the men who had escorted her 
there? why a nocturnal journey, which those 
men evidently wished to be unknown ? 

Presently the so and of voices ceased, and 
again a deathly silence pervaded the house ; 
so, feeling I could do nothing, I turned away 
and wandered aimlessly across the moors. 
For a long time I thought of what I had 
seen and heard, and wondered how I should 
be able to discover the meaning of it all, and 
as I wondered my desire to know became 
stronger. So eager was I in forming plans, 
that for a time I forgot that I had promised 
to go to The Queen’s Head ” that night, 
forgot the other plans which were intended 
to lift the burden of care from my father’s 
shoulders, as well as from my own. 

At length, however, it all came back to 
my mind, and I turned my face towards 
Besuddle. I had not gone far when I saw a 
ghostly-looking form crossing the moor, and, 
in spite of the education I had received, I could 
not repress a shudder. For, as most people 
know, the Cornish folk are very superstitious, 
and, added to this, it was whispered among 
the folk Peter Sleeman’s father often came 
back from his grave and haunted the lonely 
moors, as if to bemoan his untimely death. 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


43 


All ghostly fears were soon dispelled^ how- 
ever. The familiar clink of a horse’s hoofs 
upon the stones scattered over the moors 
suggested the fact of a farmer returning 
home. A minute later I saw that the horse’s 
rider was no other than Peter Sleeman, and, 
the night being clear, I saw that he was 
attired in a respectable suit of clothes. This 
was unusual for Peter. Some said that for 
five years he had never douned anything but 
his working clothes, so I felt sure he had 
something important on hand. 

‘‘ Good night, Mr. Sleeman,” I said. 

Who be you ? ” he asked, gruffly, riding 
up close to me. Oh, I see — ^young Tremain. 
Where be you off to ? ” 

I’m going to Besuddle, Mr. Sleeman. It’s 
rather lonely at Eosecarrol, and I’m going 
for a bit of company. I suppose it is quiet 
at Dreardowns, too ? ” 

^^Yes, we have nobody there,” he said, 
gruffly. 

“I suppose not. I was thinking only to- 
day I would like to have a look at your 
mowey. Have your corn crops been good 
this year ? ” 

Only middlin’. There’s nothin’ at Drear- 
downs for a young fellow like you to come 
and see. Chaps like you want to go where 


44 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


there’s wimmen. I ain’t got noan at my 
place, except old Gracey Grigg, who was 
’ousekipper for father, and she’s sixty ef she’s 
a day.” 

But she can’t do all the work, can she ? ” 

Well, my hine. Bill Best, es married, and 
his wife do come up sometimes, but they’m 
the only wimmen that do ever come to Drear- 
downs.” 

Well, no one can say you are overmuch 
burdened with the society of women, Mr. 
Sleeman. But have you no friends or rela- 
tions that come to see you ? ” 

“Hobody. There ain’t a bin a livin’ soul 
but they inside my ’ouse since ’arvest, and 
that's six weeks agone. I doan’t want nobody, 
nuther. Mine esn’t a plaace for people to 
come to. Good night.” 

Knowing what I did, Peter’s words more 
than ever confirmed my suspicions ; neither 
could I drive them from my mind as I trudged 
towards The Queen’s Head.” 

A few minutes later Hezekiah Tamblin 
was shaking me heartily by the hand, while 
his daughter Keziah, as she met me, told me 
with a giggle that she had amoast gived 
me up, thinkin’ as ’ow I was like moast young 
men, and didn’ kip my word.” 

Somehow the moral atmosphere of The 


How THE Mist Thickened. 


45 


Queen’s Head” was different from that of 
Rosecarrol ; it was different, too, from that 
which I could not help associating with the 
prisoner at JDreardowns ; and yet I remained 
like one charmed, and when I left Kezia 
Tamhlin that night I felt her warm kiss 
burning on mj cheek. 


CHAPTER ly. 

The Face at Dreaedowns’ Window. 

For the next month I think I was bewitched. 
I spent a good deal of my time at The 
Queen’s Head.” Kezia Tamblin always gave 
me a warm welcome when I went^ while I 
was more and more eager to go as the days 
went by. For the first few days I felt a 
kind of shame in visiting her. I knew, in 
spite of all I could tell myself, that I was 
making love to her just to keep Rosecarrol ; 
and although I knew I should be saving my 
mother from untold pain in doing this, I 
dared not tell her of the step I was taking. 
Somehow I felt sure that mother could never 
welcome Kezia. It is true she was handsome, 
she was wealthy — that is, according to our 
ideas of wealth in that part of the country — 
but she was coarse. Perhaps I should not 
have felt this so much if I had not known 
and loved my mother ; but she had given me 
high ideals of what a woman ought to be, 
and when I discovered that Kezia did not 


The Face at Dkeaedowns’ Window. 47 


fulfil those ideals I was saddened. But this 
did not last long. Somehow her robust 
health and animal spirits made me forget 
my dreams. I thought less and less about 
my boyish fancies, and gave myself over to 
the pleasure of the moment. She was good- 
looking, she was wealthy, and she was very 
fond of me, so what could I want more ? 

So much enamoured with her did I become 
that I forgot the mystery at Sleeman’s house, 
or, if I thought of it, I did not feel sufiicient 
interest in it to take any further steps in the 
matter. Kezia claimed all my spare time 
and attention ; Kezia’s warm, soft arms 
would be placed around my neck to welcome 
me whenever I came ; and so I forgot the 
things I should otherwise remember. And 
so my passion — for I cannot call it love — 
grew day by day, until Hezekiah Tamblin 
regarded the marriage between us as settled. 

Eobert, my boy,’^ he said one night, 
confidentially, this es a providental arrange- 
ment ; that’s wot et es. You’ve got the 
naame, and the breedin’, and Kezia hev got 
the money to kip et up. I was lucky in 
California, oncommon lucky, my booy, and I 
used to tell mezelf that when I got ’ome 
Kezia shud be a laady. I da con seder yours 
to be the best family in the parish, Eobert. 


48 


The Face at 


Law, you’ll be a magistrate some day. 
You’re a cute chap, and you’ll make Eose- 
carrol into the grandest plaace in the county. 
Tell ’ee, I wanted things to be like this a 
long time afore I knawd ’ee, else I shudden 
a bin willin’ to lend so much money to yer 
vather. But ’tes oal right. I’m glad you 
and Kezia hev vailed in love weth aich 
other.” 

“Does Kezia know that my father owes 
you money ? ” I asked. 

Never you mind that, my boy. ^ Father,’ 
ses she to me, after she’d come ’ome from 
Arternun ’arvest festival, ses she, ^ ef ther’s 
a young man I shud like to have ’tes 
young Eobert Tremain.’ Oa, ’tes oal right, 
Eobert.” 

I must confess that this did not make me 
very comfortable, but just then Kezia came 
in, and then I forgot what a coarse man her 
father was. 

A fortnight after I had first seen her at 
“The Queen’s Head,” Kezia Tamblin was 
talked about among the country folk as 
“ Eobert Termaain’s maid,” while Hezekiah 
Tamblin was heard to say that his “intended 
son-in-law was the finest young man in the 
county.” 

A month after I had first seen her I went 


Dreatidowns’ Window. 


49 


with her to see her aunt who lived at Linkin- 
horne, and Kezia introduced me to her as 
her intended husband. I suppose she meant 
nothing indelicate when she did this, and I 
am sure she felt very loving towards me ; hut 
somehow^it hurt me, and I am afraid I was 
not very good company that night. 

I think she felt that something was wrong, 
for as we were going home she asked me if I 
were cross. 

Certainly not, Kezia,” I replied. 

And you do love me, Eohert ? ” she said ; 
^^doan’t ’ee now‘P I would die for you, 
Eohert,” and she caught my arm and held 
it fast. 

^^Of course, Kezia,” said I, and at that 
moment I felt I was speaking the truth. 

Because,” said she, and her voice became 
curiously intense, ‘‘1 could not do without 
you now.” 

‘^Couldn’t you really, Kezia?” I said; 
‘‘ do you love me so ? ” 

Love you ! ” she cried, and she lifted my 
hand to her mouth and covered it with 
kisses. Ef any woman was to try and take 
you from me I would kill ’er.” 

‘‘Nonsense, Kezia,” I said, with a nervous 
laugh. 

“It may be nonsense,” she replied, “hut 

4 , 


50 




The Face at 


I wud. IVe got ’ee, Robert, and nobody 
shall ’ave ’ee but me. When be ’ee goin’ 
to take me to Rosecarrol and shaw me to 
yer mother ? ” 

Soon,” I said, with an uneasy feeling in 
my heart. 

^^Iknaw I bean’t so well brought up as 
you be,” she said, passionately. ^‘1 knaw 
that father used to be a farm labbut, but I 
love you, Robert, and I feel mad when I see 
’ee spaikin’ to another maid. You doan’t 
want nobody but me, do ’ee? ” 

^^No one, Kezia,” and I spoke the truth. 

And if ever you do want anybody else, 
as I said, I’m sure I should kill the maid 
that took away yer love. I used to laugh 
when I read about sich things in story-books, 
but I doan’t now. I didn’ knaw what it was 
to care ’bout anybody then. Kiss me, Robert, 
and tell me you’ll never love anybody else.” 

I kissed her, and told her not to fear, but 
there was a strange feeling in my heart all 
the same. 

That evening, after I left her, I could 
not help thinking about what she had said. 
I was held to her by a strange fascination, 
and yet even then I knew that she had never 
stirred my higher nature. The love which 
held me was the love of the brute rather than 


Dreardowns’ Window. 


61 


tlie angel, while I felt that mv manhood was 
not uplifted by visiting The Queen’s Head.” 
When I went there at first, I felt a kind of 
loathing for the inmates of the bar-parlour, 
with their coarse jokes and ribald songs ; but 
now the loathing was gone, while I often 
caught myself eagerly listening to their 
conversation. 

All this was passing through my mind 
when I met Peter Sleeman. He was riding 
away from Dreardowns, and he was attired 
in the same clothes he wore when I last saw 
him. It was now seven o’clock, but the 
middle of November had come, and thus 
daylight had quite gone. At times, however, 
tlie moon shone out from between the black 
clouds, enabling me to see plainly. 

He nodded to me as he went by, and gave 
a surly giunt. 

I wonder where Peter is going,” I said 
to myself, and then an intense desire came 
into my heart to go to Dreardowns. As I 
said, the company of Kezia Tamblin had 
driven away all thoughts of Dreardowns and 
its mysterious inmates. For the past month 
I had been in a sort of dreamland, and if 
flattery and demonstrated affection could 
make one happy, I had been happy, 

I had never spoken to any one about the 


52 


The Face at 


incident I Lave related, however. Somehow 
I felt incapable of telling anj one about that 
pale face which bore such a look of agony. 
I could not describe the meeting on the moors 
when a woman’s cry had aroused my curiosity. 
Sometimes during that month I had felt that 
I ought to take definite steps towards finding 
out its meaning, but something kept me back. 

After meeting Peter Sleeman, however, 
and remembering what he had said the last 
time I had seen him, I had, as I said, a 
strong desire to go to Dreardowns again. I 
fancied all sorts of wild, improbable things. 
I pictured the woman I had seen walking in 
the garden treating her prisoner with bar- 
barous cruelty ; I thought of the pale young 
girl suffering untold anguish, as she remained 
a prisoner in the dreary house. 

Almost involuntarily I turned my face 
towards Peter Sleeman’s dwelling, and then 
hurried thither without questioning what 
possible good I could do. It was yet early 
in the evening, so I determined to get behind 
the garden fence, from whence I had seen 
the woman about whom I had been so greatly 
puzzled. I had no difidculty in reaching this 
spot unobserved. Hot a soul stirred, and at 
that time a cloud hid the light of the moon, 
so that the darkness was great. I looked 


Deeaedowns’ Window. 


53 


over the fence between the scanty bushes 
towards the window of the room to which 
the young girl had been taken, and saw that 
the blind had not been pulled down. The 
room was very dim; probably it was only 
illumined by a candle. I looked eagerly, but 
could see nothing within the apartment. 

A few minutes later, however, a brighter 
light gleamed from the window ; then I saw 
the elderly woman bring a lamp and place it 
near the window. I could discern her fea- 
tures plainly, and I thought I saw a bored, 
weary look on her face. I saw, too, that she 
moved away listlessly, as though she were 
tired. 

Close beside me was a fir-tree, and, acting 
on the impulse of the moment, I climbed up 
to the first branch, a distance of perhaps ten 
feet. From this position, in spite of several 
thick iron bars which had been placed across 
the window, and which made escape seem- 
ingly impossible, I could see the interior of 
the room, could see every article of furniture. 
It was not a bedroom, but fitted up as a 
sitting-room. I saw an easy-chair, a narrow, 
uncomfortable couch, and two cane-seated 
chairs. The floor was covered with cocoa- 
nut matting, while on the walls were hung a 
few cheap prints. A dull, miserable-looking 


64 


The Face at 


fire smouldered in the grate. Altogether, 
the room, for a farmhouse, was not badly 
furnished. 

Presently my heart gave a bound, for I 
saw the young girl enter. At first I could 
not see her features plainly, for she walked 
to and fro the room, and thus turned only 
the side of her face towards me. By-and-by, 
however, she came to the window and looked 
out. I was only twenty feet from her, while 
the branch of the tree on which I stood placed 
me on a level with the room in which she 
was. I saw her plainly now. The light of 
the lamp revealed every feature. She 
remained a long time, too, looking steadfastly 
out into the daikness. 

I shall never forget to my djdng day the 
feeling which came over me as I watched. 
What caused it I can scarcely describe even 
now. Perhaps it was the look in her eyes, 

perhaps , but let me describe her 

appearance as well as I can, just as I saw her 
that November night. 

She did not look more than twenty, per- 
haps barely that. In the lamplight both her 
hair and eyes looked as black as the raven’s 
wing, the former being tossed in curling 
tresses back from her forehead, and the latter 
shining like stars. I learned afterwards that 



“ She remained a long time, looking steadfastly out into 
the darkness.’’— Page 54. 


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Deeaedowns’ Window. 


55 


neither were her hair or eyes black, but a 
rich (lark brown. Her face was very pale ; it 
looked unhealthy in the pale lamplight, but 
the features were to me more beautiful than 
any I had ever seen. 

I looked long and steadfastly, and as I 
looked I realised that the dream of my life 
was fulftlled. I saw the fulfilment of my 
heart’s desire ; I saw one whom I felt sure 
responded to the deepest cravings of my 
heart. 

But oh the sadness, the utter hopeless 
misery that rested on her features ! Never 
before did I think that eyes could reveal such 
unutterable longing as hers revealed ! Never 
did I think a face could tell such a story as 
hers told ! 

It was with difficulty that I refrained from 
jumping to the ground, going into the 
house, and demanding her liberty. I soon 
realised the foolishness of such an act, how- 
ever. My new-found love gave me discretion, 
I think, and told me to be wise. For 
the throbbing of my heart, the hunger of 
my soul told me that I did love her, that I 
should love her until my heart ceased to 
beat, until the wheels of my life stood still. 

The world became changed to me from 
that moment. Everything had a new mean- 


56 


The Face at 


ing’. In a true_, deep sense^ ^^old things had 
passed away, and all things had become 
new.” I had heard the preachers tell about 
being born into a new life, and I felt that 
this new life had come to me. 

I did not know who she was; at that 
moment the thought did not trouble me. I 
had seen her. I knew that the light which 
shone from her eyes was pure; I saw nobility 
stamped upon her face. She appealed to all 
that was pure and true within me, and I 
loved her with all the fulness of my life. 

At that moment I never thought of the 
companionship I had formed, never thought 
of the fact that I had been ready to barter 
my soul for a mess of pottage. I remembered 
only that I was looking into the face of the 
one woman in the world, and that my heart 
burned as if there were great fires within me. 

Joy ! Until that moment I did not know 
the meaning of the word ! For the first time 
I understood the language of the poets I had 
read when at school, and who had taught 
that love was heaven. 

How long she stood looking out into the 
night I know not. It might be only minutes, 
it might be hours, but all the time, as I 
watched her, I thought of plans whereby I 
might let her know that she was not uncared 


Breakdowns’ Window. 


57 


for; I pondered over means whereby I might 
set her at liberty. 

Presently I saw her give a start ; then she 
looked around her as if afraid, while a look 
of pain shot across her face. I saw her no 
more that night, however, for she hastily 
pulled down the blind, and from that time it 
seemed to me as though the night were 
darker and the scene more drear. 

Just at that moment, too, I heard the 
sound of a horse’s hoofs, and then I felt sure 
that she had a reason for leaving the window. 
She was afraid of being seen, perhaps, or it 
might be that she expected news from the 
outside world. At the sound of the horse’s 
hoofs I turned, and from my hiding-place saw 
Peter Sleeman ride up. I heard him mutter- 
ing to himself as he stabled his horse, and 
then, as he made his way towards the farm- 
house door, I distinctly heard him utter these 
words, I’ll know more about this business 
to-night.” 

He stood for a few seconds by the door, as 
though he hesitated to enter ; then he said, 
slowly, “ There’s 'more in it than there seems, 
but I will know.” 

A moment later he was within the house, 
the house that contained a treasure dearer to 
me than all the world besides. 


58 


The Face at 


Without hesitating a second, I slipped 
down from the tree, and made my way to 
the back part of the house. I saw a light in 
the back-kitchen window, towards which I 
went, and hid myself in an angle of the 
house, from which I could see the room 
plainly. As every Cornish countryman knows, 
especially those who have lived in the neigh- 
bourhood of which I am writing, the back 
kitchen is a room mostly nsed by farm 
servants. It is anything but elegantly fur- 
nished. Generally all that is to be seen is a 
deal table, a wooden settle, a form, and two 
or three tliree-legged stools. This room was 
no exception to the rule. There was no 
window-blind fastened to the window, and 
had there been, it would not, in all proba- 
bility, have been drawn. Where there are 
no neighbours country people trouble but 
little about such things. 

On the table a tallow candle flickered, 
while beside the peat fire in the huge open 
chimney-place crooned an old woman. Peter 
Sleeman stood not far from her, looking 
uglier, 1 think, than ever I had seen him 
before. 

Hello, Graacey,” he shouted, you bean’t 
gone to bed, then? ” 

‘‘ Ho, Fitter, no. I thot I’d jist wait till 


Dreaedowns’ Window. 


59 


you coined ’ome, my deaar. Oa tes fine an’ 
loanly.” 

I spoase Liza Best hev bin up ? ” 

Iss, but slieVe bin gon an hour or more — 
ever since Bill corned up to give the bullocks 
ther straw, and bed ’em down for the night.” 

And ain’t Mrs. Foxey a bin ’ere toal ? ” 

hTo, she’s bin slaipin’, I reckon.” 

And the maid? ” 

I ain’t a zid her.” 

Ugh ! Well, you go to bed now.” 

What?” 

Go to bed ! Caan’t ’ee ’ear ? I be boilin’ 
to ’ee like a hedger. You be as deef as a 
addick, and be gittin’ deefer every day.” 

The old woman hobbled off to bed, mut- 
tering to herself as she went, while Peter 
stood looking into the peat fire. 

I’ll have her down,” he said presently ; 

I’ll know more ’bout this business. I will, 
ther now ! ” 

He hesitated a few seconds, as though in 
doubt, then he went to the foot of the stairs 
and called aloud, Mrs. Foxey.” 

Yes, Mr. Sleeman.” 

‘‘ ’Ere, I want ’ee.” 

All right, I’m coming.” 

A minute later, the woman oP whom I have 
spoken before came into the room. 


60 The Face at Dreardowhs’ Window. 


want to have a talk weth ’ee, Mrs. 
Foxej/’ said Peter Sleeman^ with a nervous 
giggle. 

Allow me to tell jou again, Mr. Sleeman, 
that mj name is not Foxej, hut Foxwell.’’ 

Au, well, ’tes all the same to me, mj 
deear. Look ’ere, I want to knaw more 
about this maid bisness, and wot’s more, I’m 
goin’ to knaw.” 

Eagerly I drew nearer to the window, so 
as Dot to miss a word. 


CHAPTEE V. 


The Conversation Between Peter 
Sleeman and Mrs. Poxwell. 

It may be thought that I was scarcely act- 
ing an honourable part in listening, but in 
looking back, I do not feel that I was wrong. 
I felt that evil was being done ; I was sure 
that injustice was rife, and that in fathom- 
ing the designs of those who wrought the 
evil, I was justified in taking this course. 
Besides, my heart was on fire. The intense 
longing, ay, the misery expressed on that 
young girl’s face nerved me to do anything, 
while the love which grew stronger at 
each beat of my heart would admit of no 
obstacle. 

And yet did I not compromise with 
my love, and thus? — but I will speak of 
that presently ; let me tell my story now, as 
best I can. 

The night had become quite dark now. 
No longer were there blue patches in the 
sky. From the north-east a great black 


62 The Conversation Between 


cloud had arisen which covered the whole 
heavens, and I knew by the moaning of 
the wind as it swept over the moors that 
a storm was coming on. That fact, how- 
ever, did not trouble me. I was intent on 
hearing what the woman whom Peter Slee- 
man had called Mrs. Foxey had to say to 
him. 

‘‘ There is nothing I have to tell you, Mr. 
Sleeman,” I heard Mrs. Foxwell say. 

Iss, there es, my deear,” said Peter, with 
a leer. Come now, I’m goin’ to knaw.” 
And he went to the chimney -place and stirred 
up the fire. 

’Tes gittin’ awful cowld, my deear,” he 
continued. Ther’, now, I’ll put some ’ood 
(wood) on, an’ pull up the settle, too. Ther’ 
now, zet down and we’ll have a good crake 
(talk) ’bout this.” 

‘^I’ve nothing to tell you, Mr. Sleeman,” 
she repeated. 

‘^Then I sh’ll ’ave summin’ to tell to 
people,” responded Peter, with an ugly 
look. 

He threw some furze sticks on the fire, 
which caught into a blaze, and then, pulling 
up the settle, he sat down, while Mrs. Fox- 
well sat on a stool near. I could see them 
plainly, and the wind not being yet risen. 


Peter Sleeman and Mrs. Foxwell. 63 


and one of the panes of glass being broken, 
I could hear them plainly. 

Come now/’ said Sleeman, ould Graacey 
es gone to bed, so nobody can ’ear. What 
do et oal main? ” 

I tell you, Mr, Sleeman, I don’t know. 
I’m as much in the dark as you are. You 
are paid for keeping her here, I am paid for 
taking care of her. That is all.” 

Peter gave an unsatisBed grunt ; then he 
said, sharply: ^^But you started weth her 
from the beginnin’, you must knaw ’bout 
that. All I got was a letter axin’ me to 
take a young person privately, and to 
keep her in strict secrecy. Now, that 
may be all very well. I’m paid very well 
for it, but it might pay me better — iss, 
and pay us boath better, ef we was to 
git the rights of it, and help ’tother 
side.” 

No, it wouldn’t.” 

How do ’ee knaw ? ” 

She hasn’t a penny, never had a penny. 
She remembers all about her past. She has 
always been poor. She is perfectly in the 
dark as to what it all means.” 

^^I doan knaw nothin’ ’bout that,” said 
Peter, slowly. But you must be luny to 
think that any Trelaske in this world es 


64 


The Conversation Between 


agoin’ to do a thing like this without ther’s 
good raison.” 

Mr. Edgar is very deep,” said Mrs. Eox- 
well, thoughtfully. 

‘‘ Deep ! deep as the bottomless pit,” said 
Peter, savagely. They all be. I was 
sarvent to th’ oull Colonel, I was, and well I 
knawd it. Tell ’ee he^ycts deep, and so when I 
gits a letter from young Edgar askin’ me to 
kip a maid ’ere in privacy, to taake her in at 
night, and not to laive anybody knaw that 
she was ’ere, I knawd there was summin on 
foot. The maid may knaw nothin’ ’bout it, 
but I tell ’ee there’s summin in the wind. 
Look ’ere, ’ow ded you git on this ’ere 
job?” 

was maid to Mrs. Trelaske,” she 
replied. 

What, th’ oull Colonel’s wife ? ” 

^^Yes.” 

^‘Then you had a purty time ov et, I 
reckon.” 

‘^Anyhow, I was her maid; when she died 
1 got married.” 

What, to Foxey ? ” 

“To Mr. Foxwell. He was coachman in 
the old Colonel’s days. He took a public- 
house afterwards, and took to gambling.” 

“Iss, that’s the way ov ’em.” 


Peter Sleeman and Mrs. Poxwell. 65 


^^Well, when lie died a few months ago, 
he left me without a penny.” 

Iss, what then? ” 

started a dressmakiug business in 
Plymouth, but I got on badly. I couldn’t 
get a counection worth anything, so when I 
got a message from Mr. Edgar asking me to 
do this, I consented.” 

And tha’s all you knaw ? ” 

^^Ye-es.” 

Peter looked at her suspiciously. 

‘^And he took you because you was a 
woman to be depended on,” he said, with a 
leer ; and he corned to me because this es 
the moast God-forsaken spot in the country. 
We’m twelve mile from everywhere, and 
there edn’t ’ardly a ’ouse for a mile round 
’ere, and nobody do come ’ere. He do knaw 
that I was never one to talk, and he do 
knaw, too, that I doan’t make friends weth 
people. Iss, I’ve seed et oal. But, Mi’S. 
Foxey, we must find out ’bout this.” 

“ We can’t.” 

^^Have you pumped the maid ’bout her 
history ? ” 

‘‘ I’ve asked her questions. But she will 
tell me nothing. Either there is nothing to 
tell, or she distrusts me. But I am sure 
from what she says that she’s been poor.” 

5 


66 


The Conversation Between 


Um ! la me see, she’s called Joyce, ed’n 
she?” 

‘^Tes, Joyce Patmore.” 

^‘Patmore, Patmore — no, I caan’t think of 
anybody I knaw by that name. Have she 
tould ’ee where she lived, and whafc she used 
to do ? ” 

No, she will tell me nothing. I wish 
there was an end to this. I’m tired of it. 
I’m wearied to death of this dismal place. 
I’ve seen nobody for a month, and I can’t 
bear it.” 

Tha’s nothin’ wuth talkin’ ’bout, Mrs. 
Poxey, my deear. I knaw you had trouble in 
gittin’ her ’ere ; didn’t ’ee ? ” 

I got into the carriage at Plymouth. Mr. 
Edgar was there, and the other man that 
came on here. She was just like one in a 
trance. We got out at Doublebois, a little 
roadside station, and one of the dreariest 
places you can conceive of ; there are woods 
all around, and not a house near.” 

Iss, I knaw it. Well ? ” 

Well, we found the carriage waiting. 
Mr. Edgar told the porter, a thick-headed 
fellow that collected the tickets, that the 
lady was ill. He was too stupid to think of 
asking questions, and so we got into the 
carriage that was waiting for us, and drove 


Peter Sleeman and Mrs. Foxwell. 67 


across the dreariest part of the country in 
the world.” 

^‘Iss, I knaw it. She waked up, didn’t 
she?” 

^^Yes, twice; hut Mr. Edgar gave her 
something to smell and she went off again. 
We had most trouble just before we got here. 
An awful mist came over the moors, and we 
didn’t know which way to come, but Mr. 
Edgar found out by inquiring of a farm- 
servant, and then told him we would go on 
to Altarnun.” 

^^Iss, I heard ’bout it. Edgar told me. 
She squalled and struggled a good bit, ded’n’ 
she ? ” 

“ Yes — and that’s all.” 

We must find out, Mrs. Foxey.” 

we do we shall lose our pav, and do no 

good.” 

‘^She seems more tractable now, doan’t 
she?” 

‘‘Yes, she seems to have settled into a sorb 
of stupor. At first she was passionate, and 
I suspected that she was trying to devise 
means of getting away. Now she just sits 
all day, and says nothing. For my part, I 
believe she’ll either go mad or die.” 

“Mr, Edgar doan’t want her to die, do 
’a?’’ 


68 The Conversation Between 


No ; I must give her a little more liberty, 
I think. She doesn’t know where she is at 
all.” 

How do ’ee knaw ? ” 

By her questions. Once she asked me if 
we were in Somersetshire, another time she 
asked if these were the Dartmoors.” 

I doan’t like doin’ things in the dark,” 
said Peter, reflectively. Still, not a soul 
ain’t the laistest idea that anybody’s ’ere : 
that es, ’cept ould Graacey, and she’s safe 
enough.” 

“ Yes ; but all this makes it hard for me. 
I’ve always to be on the watch. I’ve no 
liberty at all. I’ve had to lock the door in 
order to come away now. I shall write to 
Mr. Edgar to send someone else to help me.” 

Then ther’ll have to be mait for another,” 
said Peter, ‘‘ and that’ll main a pound a week 
more for me, mind that.” 

I think he’s paying all he cares to pay.” 

But I’ll make ’em. I’ll threaten to tell.” 

And if you do, you’ll rue it.” 

«How?” 

Why, if he’s done wrong, so have we. If 
he’s done anything for which he can be pun- 
ished, so have we. We should be imprisoned 
as his accomplices.” 

An ugly look came into his eyes, and he 


Peter Sleeman and Mrs. Poxwell. 69 


seemed to be about to speak when the woman 
started up. 

There, she’s moving,” she said. ‘‘ I hear 
her steps overhead. There, she’s walking to 
and fro the room. The window is barred, 
and she would have to come down these stairs 
in order to get out, but ITl go up and see.” 

She left the room hastily, while Peter sat 
staring into the fire. Presently he started 
up, and then sat down again. At that 
moment Mrs. Poxwell returned. 

She was walking in her sleep, I think,” 
she said, in an excited tone of voice. She 
was going to and fro the room, her eyes wide 
open and seeing nothing. She took no notice 
of me, but went on whispering to herself. I 
tell you, she’ll go mad or die. She’s getting 
very weak.” 

You must take her for a walk over the 
moors to-morrow,” said Peter. Take her 
Brown Willy way, there ed’n a house that 
way for more’n two mile. Go out jist afore 
Bill Best do come to tie up the cows, and 
come back ’bout six o’clock. It’ll be a 
chaange for both of ’ee.” 

I think I will,” she said, quietly. 

And afterwards,” said Peter, “we need’n* 
be like strangers ; we can send ould Graacey 
to bed, and have a chat ’ere together. I 


70 The Conversation Between 


think you be a nice woman,” and Peter 
looked at her amorously. 

“ Don’t be foolish,” she said, in not a dis- 
pleased tone of voice. 

“I bean’t foolish, Martha — ^you’m called 
Martha, bean’t ’ee? I was never a woman’s 
man, my deear, though I was in the Artillery 
after I runned away from vat her here. 
Wimmen dedn’ like me. But I like you, 
you be a nice woman, and a nice-lookin’ 
woman, too. I knaw I bean’t much to look 
at, but I’m wuth a good bit a money, and 
you and me can make a good bit more out ov 
this bisness, ef we’m careful, Martha.” 

‘‘ I don’t see that. Do you hear the rain ? 
’Tis an awful night.” 

But I do, Martha. And we may so well 
be comfortable. Give me a kiss now, will 
’ee ? ” 

‘^Nonsense, Mr. Sleeman. Good night.” 

But, Martha, now,” said Peter, coaxingly, 
and trying to smile, which made his face 
uglier than ever, we may so well be friendly. 
Give me a kiss.” 

‘^Certainly not — why, this is the first 
time you’ve spoken civilly to me since I 
came.” 

Peter caught her arm, but she slipped from 
him, left the room, and went upstairs. 


Peter Sleeman and Mrs. Poxwell. 71 


•I still waited^ wondering wliat Peter would 
do. I was cramped and cold^ and the rain 
had drenched me to the shin ; but I cared 
nothing for that. A young farmer thinks 
nothing of wet clothes — besides, I was not in 
a state of mind to trouble about such things. 
The young girl’s pleading eyes haunted me, 
and I longed with a great longing to set her 
free. 

Peter looked steadily into the fire, sucking 
a black clay pipe as he did so. Several times 
he gave a low chuckle, as if pleasant thoughts 
were passing through his mind. But he said 
nothing that I could hear, and presently he 
took the candle and left the room. 

I felt nothing of the beating rain as I went 
over the moors towards Eosecarrol ; I thought 
of nothing but the young girl who had entered 
my life, and of the conversation to which I 
had listened. Kezia Tamblin was only a 
name, while the danger of losing Eosecarrol 
never troubled me at all. 

Joyce ! Joyce Patmore ! ” I cried aloud ; 
“ do not be afraid, Joyce, you shall be free ! 
You have a friend, a lover, Joyce, although 
you know it not ! Don’t bo afraid, Joyce, I 
will help you ! ” 

I repeated her name over and over again. 
I called her all sorts of endearing names. 


72 The Conversation Between 


I laughed aloud and listened while the 
sounds died awaj in the moaning of the 
wind. 

Presently I seemed to enter into the spirit 
of the wild night ; there was something akin 
to me in the great stretch of the moors, and 
in the sobbing of the storm as it swept on- 
ward. I heard her name everywhere — a 
thousand voices seemed to tell me that I 
must deliver her from her prison, that I must 
solve the riddle of her life. 

And I will — I will, Joyce, my beautiful,” 
I cried. Come what will, I will help you, 
Joyce ; I will set you free, my darling, for I 
love you ! I love you ! Do you hear, Joyce, 
I love you ! ” 

Then the winds roared around me as 
though they understood, and the moor-birds 
cried as though they were witnesses to the 
vow I had made. 

As I drew nearer Eosecarrol, however, a 
new mood came over me. A great darkness 
seemed to rest on everything, and the wild 
winds, instead of speaking words of cheer 
and hope, only breathed the wail of despair, 
while the beating rain gave only sullen 
moans. But my heart beat warm with love 
through it all; and I saw Joyce’s face and 
Joyce’s eyes everywhere, and I determined 


Peter Sleeman and Mrs. Foxwell. 73 


tliat, come what might, she should be free, 
and she should be happy. 

I know that this may seem foolish to those 
who have never caught the spirit of a stormy 
night, nor been torn with conflicting thoughts 
as I was torn, but I have told the truth never- 
theless, just as what follows is true, strange 
though it may seem. 


CHAPTER VI. 

How ^Matters Came to a Crisis. 

When I drew near to Rosecarrol I saw that 
a light was in the room to which mj father 
repaired when he had any writing to do. I 
think I have mentioned that sometimes we 
called it the sitting-room and sometimes the 
library. To my surprise, my father met me. 

‘^Robert, my boy,” he said, when I en- 
tered, “ you’ve had a wet night to come from 
courting. It’s a rough walk over the moors, 
too. I should think,” he continued, with a 
nervous, apologetic sort of laugh, that 
you’ll want to end it soon, and — and settle 
down.” 

I said nothing, however. Somehow I did 
not care to tell him that I had not been with 
Kezia Tamblin since early in the evening, 
while it was now midnight. 

It is very wet,” I said ; I’m soaked to 
the skin.” 

Well, get on some dry clothes; I want 
to talk a bit,” he said. I’ve got some hot 


How Matters Came to a Crisis. 75 


milk and egg for ’ee. I told Matilda to get 
it ready. I suppose you won’t have a drop 
of brandy in it ? ” 

Ho/’ I said, remembering the habit 
which had been growing upon him, although 
I must confess he had not drank so much 
since I had taken up with Kezia Tamblin. 

Well, put on dry clothes, anyhow, and 
come down here. You see what a good fire 
I’ve got.” 

I was not adverse to this, for I did not 
feel like going to bed, and the fire certainly 
looked cheerful. So I quickly changed my 
wet clothes for dry, and came back to my 
father. 

You’ve had supper, I suppose, Bob ? ” 

I could manage with some of that 
chicken-pie, anyhow,” I replied, for I had 
eaten nothing since early in the afternoon. 
So I sat down and ate the chicken-pie ; and 
then I drank the milk and egg, feeling very 
much better for it, too. 

You’ve been to ^ The Queen’s Head ’ 
to-night, I suppose. Bob ? ” said my father. 

I nodded. 

Hezekiah Tamblin has been here.” 

What for?” 

I sent for him.” 

Why ? ” 


76 How Matters Came to a Crisis. 


That’s what I wanted to speak to you 
about,” said my father, anxiously. 

Like one in a dream I sat beside the fire. 
I was wondering what Joyce Patmore was 
doing just then. Hezekiah Tamblin’s visit 
was nothing to me. 

‘‘You remember that I told you how 
Eosecarrol was mortgaged for all it was 
worth to Hezekiah Tamblin ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

‘‘ You know, too, that I told you how I 
had borrowed money on the stock ? ” 

I nodded. 

^‘Well, Lawyer Coad wants his money.” 

What money? ” 

" The money I borrowed from him.” 

Oh, I see. You borrowed money from 
him. I thought you had it all from 
Tamblin. Well, you say Coad wants his 
money back ? ” 

I hardly realised what I was saying ; for, 
simple though my father’s meaning was, I 
barely grasped it. My thoughts were else- 
where. 

“ Yes, Coad wants his money back. 1 got 
a letter from him this morning. It’s a fairly 
big sum. I should have to sell off all my 
stock to pay him, and you can see what that 
would mean.” 


How Matters Came to a Crisis. 77 


His meaning was getting clearer to me, 
but I did not speak. 

Well, I sent for Tamblin, and asked him 
to lend me the amount.” 

Yes.” 

^^Well, he consents — on condition 
that ” 

^^Wliat?” 

That you marry Kezia at once.” 

I awoke from my dream at his words. I 
saw clearly now what he had been aiming 
at ; I realised, too, what it meant. At that 
moment I loathed Kezia Tamblin, I loathed 
myself for paying her any attentions. By 
so doing I had blighted my life, I had been 
untrue to my best self, I had destroyed my 
chances of ever winning as my wife one for 
whom every fibre of my being longed. It was 
with difficulty that I refrained from rising to 
my feet, denouncing my father’s action, and 
refusing ever to speak to Kezia Tamblin 
again. At that moment I saw her as I had 
never seen her before. She was blowsy, 
vulgar, coarse. She had never appealed to 
my manhood at all — only to my selfishness, 
to my lower nature. My new-found love, on 
the other hand, seemed to me an angel of 
purity, pointing me upward. 

My father, however, never dreamed of the 


78 How Matters Came to a Ciiisis. 


thoughts which passed through my mind. 
He went on talking quite calmly. 

‘^You see, Robert, Tamblin is entirely 
wrapped up in this girl. He is a coarse sort 
of fellow, but he really loves his daughter, 
while she is simply crazy about you. It 
seems she fell in love with you before you 
ever saw her, and it was she who persuaded 
him to advance so much money on Rosecarrol. 
Well, whether Tamblin doubts you or not I 
can’t say, but he says that he’ll advance this 
money on the condition that the wedding 
takes place at once, and that he’ll give her 
Rosecarrol and this money as a fortune. I 
tell you, my boy, I don’t know where you’d 
get such another chance. Why, it’s as good 

as — yes, more than five thous ” 

Stop, father,” I cried ; stop, I want to 
think.” 

“ What’s the use of thinking? ” responded 
my father. You’ve courted the girl for a 
month, and, as far as I can see, the wedding 
may as well take place in another three weeks 
or month as in several months’ time. Besides, 
the whole matter would be settled, and money 
troubles would be over.” 

“ Have you spoken to mother about it ? ” I 
asked. 

^•‘Well, she knows you’ve been courtin’ 


How Matters Came to a Crisis. 79 


Kezia. You know she’s only anxious about 
your happiness. Let the wedding come olf, 
and she’ll never know anything about money 
troubles, and she’ll be happy in the thought 
of your joy.” 

But couldn’t you borrow this money else- 
where, and pay Coad ? ” 

Why should I ? ” asked my father. 

Tamblin’s money is as good as anybody’s 
else. Besides,” and my father looked at me 
suspiciously, if you try to get out of 
marry in’ Kezia, her father will ruin me in a 
moment ; he will drive us out of the house, 
and that will kill your mother. If I were to 
try to borrow anywhere else, his suspicions 
would be aroused, for, mind you, he’s no fool, 
if he is rough and coarse.” 

I can’t talk any more about it to-night,” 
I said, hurriedly. ‘‘I’ll let you know to- 
morrow morning,” and I left the room with 
an unsteady step. 

Hot one wink of sleep did I get that night ; 
my mind seemed preternaturally awake. And 
yet I could not think clearly. Everything 
was mixed up. Sometimes Peter Sleeman 
and Hezekiah Tamblin were the same persons, 
while the money difficulties presented a riddle 
which I could not solve. Before daylight I 
got up and dressed, and then, after a thorough 


80 How Matters Came to a Crisis. 


sousing of mj head in cold water, I was 
able to grasp the situation in which I was 
placed. 

What should I do? Trj and crush my 
new-found love for the lone maiden of whom 
I knew nothing, and give up all my plans for 
rescuing her? Ho, home or no home, pro- 
perty or no property, I could not do that. 
Whatever happened, I would set her free, 
and I would try and win back her rights for 
her, whatever they might be. But what did 
this mean? What of Kezia Tamblin? Had 
I not won her heart, and led her to believe I 
cared for her? Was it not my duty to fulfil 
my promises ? Besides, if I did not wed her, 
my home would be sacrificed, while my father 
and I would be left penniless. And mother ! 
Yes, I was sure it would kill her to know 
that we were bankrupt and homeless. 

Then, again, had I any right to marry 
Kezia Tamblin when I did not love her — ay, 
when I was ready to give my life’s blood for 
another? Better poverty,-better death, than 
a loveless marriage. Should I not sin against 
this affectionate country girl more by marry- 
ing her, when all the time my heart would 
be yearning for another, than by refusing to 
be a party to a loveless union ? 

All this passed through my mind in a hazy. 


How Matters Came to a Crisis. 81 


indistinct sort of way, and as the morning 
passed away the question remained un- 
settled. 

I determined that 1 would set Joyce 
Patmore at liberty, but I could not believe 
that she could ever care for me. I might 
love her, but how could she love me ? As 
yet she had never seen me, she did not know 
of my existence. Still, I was young, and 
youth is always daring, always hopeful ; and 
although I could not make up my mind what 
to do, I did not despair but that some course 
would open up. 

A man in a dilemma always seeks a course 
which, although it seems easiest at the time, 
is often the most difficult in the long run. 
I was no exception to the rule, and I tried 
to procrastinate. 

Father,’’ I said, after I had gone through 
the farce of pretending to eat my dinner, 
‘^when is the latest date that this matter 
must be settled? ” 

The sooner the better,” said my father. 

Yes,” I replied; ^^but you see it’s very 
quick. Kezia and I have only been keeping 
company a month. It’s hardly fair that I 
shall be expected to marry a girl in less than 
two months after I first knew her.” 

My father looked at me curiously. What 

6 


82 How Matters Came to a Crisis. 


do you mean, Robert ? ” he said. Things 
were different when I was your age ; I’d 
a-married your mother in less than a week 
after we started courtin’ if I could. But 
there, I needn’t settle up with Coad for a 
week, although I promised to see Tamhlin 
again on Friday night.” 

It was now Tuesday, thus I had three 
days in which to act. I determined that I 
would go to Dreardowns again that very 
night. I remembered what Mrs. Foxwell 
had said about taking Joyce Patmore over 
the moors, and made my plans accordingly. 
Of course, things might be different from 
what I imagined, but I must be governed by 
circumstances and do the best I could. 

No doubt my plans were clumsy, no doubt 
that other and cleverer fellows would have 
arranged be Jer than I, but God knows I did 
the best I could. As I look back now I can 
see how I ought to have taken greater care 
and risked less ; indeed, the first step I took 
might have destroyed all my chances of 
helping her. Still, as I said, I did my best. 
I was not accustomed to mystery and in- 
trigue ; I had lived my life on the open 
moors, and that kind of existence does not 
prepare one for scheming and planning. 
Still, love makes us wise as well as foolish, 


How Mattees Came to a Ceisis. 83 


and I loved — Heaven knows I loved Joyce 
Patmore with all my life. 

I knew that Kezia Tamhlin expected me 
at The Queen’s Head ” that evening, but 
directly dusk came on I turned my face 
towards Dreardowns. I remembered Peter 
Sleeman’s words, ‘‘ Take her Brown Willy 
way, there ed^n a house that way for more'n 
two mile. Go out jist afore Bill Best do come 
to tie ujp the cows, and come hack ^hout six 
o'clock,"** 

Of course, this plan might not be carried 
out, but I determined to be prepared to act 
upon it. I arrived within sight of Drear- 
downs just as the light of day was beginning 
to fade. The sky overhead was grey, but no 
rain was falling ; at any rate, the weather 
was favourable to ‘walking. Placing myself 
in a sheltered spot, I watched the house, and 
presently saw two female forms come out 
and go in the direction of Brown Willy. As 
I said, the sky was grey, but the moon being 
nearly at the full the night would not be 
very dark. I saw, too, that they followed 
the cart track which led over the moors, so 
there would be no danger of their losing 
their way. Instantly my plans were made. 
Putting the note I had scribbled just before 
leaving Rosecarrol in the side pocket of my 


84 How Matters Came to a Crisis. 


coat, I took rather a circuitous route towards 
the hill, and having reached it saw that the 
two women walked side by side, Mrs. Foxwell 
holding the young girl’s arm. 

I kept them within sight easily, as long as 
daylight lasted, but when that faded my 
work was more difficult. They went farther 
across the moors than I anticipated, but 
presently they turned, and came slowly back 
towards the house. I got behind a big rock, 
and so hid myself from them as they passed 
by me. When they had gone a few yards 
I determined to carry my plan into effect. 
As I said some time ago, my arrangements 
were very clumsy, and had not good fortune 
favoured me all might have been different. 
However, this was what I did. Walking 
along on the heather, I made no noise until 
I came close to them, then I strode boldly 
up and took hold of Joyce Patmore’s hand. 

Good evening. Miss Langham,” I said, 
just as young fellows do to young farmers’ 
daughters with whom they are well ac- 
quainted. I shall have the plea sure of 
seeing you to Treduda, shan’t I ? It’s just 
in my way.” 

T slipped the note into Joyce’s hand before 
they recovered from their surprise, and I am 
certain Mrs. Foxwell did not see my action. 



“I strode boldly up and took hold of Joyce Patmore’s 
hand.”— Page 84. 








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How Matters Came to a Crisis. 85 


Excuse me/’ said Mrs. Foxwell, “you are 
mistaken. Neither of us bears the name of 
Miss Lan^ham.” 

“ Forgive me, ladies/’ I said, in a loud, 
boisterous way, but it is rather dark, and I 
cannot see plainly. Hope no offence, I’m 
sure. I wouldn’t offend for anything.” 

While I spoke I pressed Joyce Patmore’s 
hand over the note I had placed within it. I 
felt her arm tremble as though she were 
afraid, but she gave no other sign of fear. 

There’s no offence,” said Mrs. FoxwelL 
Then, as if she desired to know who I was, 
she said, Do you live near here ? ” 

“A long way from here, ma’am. I hope 
I have not frightened you. I meant nothing 
but kindness in speaking, and I know that 
]\riss Langham always comes this way when 
she goes visiting her aunt at Downderry. 
That’s Downderry,” I continued, pointing 
across the moors. “Don’t you see that 
flickering light ? ” 

Mrs. Fox well looked in the direction 
towards which I pointed, and while she did 
so I pressed Joyce Patmore’s arm as if to 
assure her that I was a friend. 

Good night, ladies. Hope you’ll get 
safely to your journey’s end. I wish I could 
help you,” I added, meaningly, “but I must 


86 How Matters Came to a Crisis. 


hurry on, seeing you are not going my 
way.” 

I went on, whistling, and turned on a 
branch track which led to Treduda, wlu're a 
Miss Langham really lived. 

I had not gone more than a few yards 
before I was harassed with a hundred fears. 
Had I done right? Did Joyce Patmore un- 
derstand? Would she give Mrs. Pox well 
the letter ? Did the woman see the note I 
had given to Joyce ? Supposing Mrs. Fox- 
well had no suspicion, would the lonely girl 
trust me, an entire stranger? These and a 
hundred other questions troubled me. I saw 
now, when it was too late, that if Mrs. Fox- 
well were to see the letter, my chances of 
helping her would be gone. And yet what 
else could I do? However, I hoped for the 
best, and while a hundred other plans shaped 
themselves in my brain, and while I told 
myself again and again what I ought to 
have done, I had faith to believe that my 
efforts would not be futile. 

Of my feelings towards Joyce as I held 
her arm I will not speak. Nothing but a 
keen sense of her danger kept me from say- 
ing and doing that which would be wild and 
foolish. 

Not long later I had again hidden myself 


How Mattees Came to a Crisis. 87 


behind the garden fence_, and was watching 
the window of her room. If my note had 
done its work she would appear there alone, 
and would in some way tell me if she would 
accept my help. 

Presently the light shone from the room, 
but the window-blind was drawn before 
Joyce appeared. Soon after I saw the 
shadows of two forms, but these moved 
rapidly past the window ; after that I think 
the room was empty. A long time 1 waited, 
until I almost gave up hope. I was almost 
sure that Mrs. Foxwell had discovered my 
ruse, and that in the future Joyce would be 
more securely guarded, or perhaps spirited 
away to another hiding-place . 

At length, however, I heard the sound of 
footsteps on the stairs. They were not loud, 
but I heard them plainly in the silence of 
the winter night. Then I heard the click of 
the farmyard gate, and saw Bill Best come 
up and open the cattle-house door. 

Is that you. Bill ? It was Peter S lee- 
man who spoke. 

^ass.” 

Aw ; I may sa well ’elp ’ee.’* 

« All right.” 

Peter came into the yard, and I heard the 
indistinct mumbling of their voices as they 


88 How Matters Came to a Crisis. 


talked. A few minutes later their work was 
done. 

Nothin’ else, I spoase ? ” said Bill, 

^^No, nothin’.” 

Oal right. Good night.” 

‘^Good night.” 

Peter came back to the house again. 

Graacey, ’ave ’ee ’ad yer supper ? ” I 
heard him shout. 

Iss, Fitter cheeld.” 

Then be off to bed.” 

I did not hear her reply, but a few seconds 
later I heard feeble footsteps tottering up 
the bare wooden stairs. 

After that there was, perhaps, ten minutes 
of silence, and then I heard Peter’s voice 
again. 

Mrs. Poxey, ther’s a capital fire in the 
back kitchen. I’ve brought in the aisy chair, 
too.” 

My heart began to beat with more hope. 
At any rate, if Mrs. Poxwell had discovered 
anything, it did not appear that she had as 
yet communicated it to Peter. 

A little later I heard footsteps on the 
stairs again, and then all was silent. I could 
hear the loud beating of my heart as I sat 
and listened; for I was very excited. The 
next few minutes would decide whether I 


How Matters Came to a Crisis. 89 


should be able to help the young girl who 
had become as dear to me as my own life. 

Scarcely a breath of wind stirred. How 
and then, it is true, I could hear a kind of low 
moaning out in the moors where the breezes 
swept across the open spaces, but here it was 
sheltered, and not a movement could be seen 
among the prickly foliage of the fir-trees. 
The house lay in silence ; so silent was it that 
the cry of the moor-birds sounded quite 
plainly in my ears. 

After waiting a few minutes longer, I saw 
the window-blind slowly begin to roll up. Ho 
noise was made, and the light in the room 
was so dim that I could not see who was the 
occupant, nevertheless I felt sure that Joyce 
Patmore waited to speak to me. 


CHAPTEE Vn. 

The Prisoner’s Letter. 

I DID not hesitate a second. I crept over the 
fence as noiselessly as possible, and then 
went across the little garden-plot towards 
the window. I saw it slowly and noiselessly 
lifted. 

I am here,” I said, as plainly as I could 
in a whisper. 

Who are you ? ” 

"I gave you that note on the moors. 
Have you read it ? ” 

‘^Yes.” 

‘^Has that Mrs. Poxwell seen it? Does 
she know that I gave it to you ? ” 

Will you let me help you ? I will take 
you from here, if you will let me.” , 

^^Who are you? Oh, forgive me; but I 
feel I can trust no one. How did you find 
out I was here ? Do you know why I am 
nere?” 

You may trust me — ^you may ! ” I 


The Prisoner’s Letter. 


91 


whispered^ eagerly. I — I would do anything 
to prove myself your friend. I found out 
that you were here by following the carriage 
across the moors on the night you came ; but 
I do not know why you are here. But I will 
find out — if I can.” 

1 have been here, oh, such a long time — 
why, if you are my friend, did you not try 
and help me before ? ” 

Her words wounded me like the stab of a 
poisoned knife. I had not tried to help her, 
because I had been with one who expected me 
to wed her. 

Forgive me,” she went on, but I have 
been nearly mad, and it is so terrible to be 
here.” 

“Hav’n’t they been kind to you? ” 

Yes, in a way ; but I am imprisoned 
here without knowing why. I don’t know 
where I am, I don’t know why I am kept 
here. I am frightened at the loneliness ; it 
is so terrible here. And everything is a 
mystery.” 

You are in Cornwall,” I said; ^‘you 
are about a dozen miles from Bodmin, 
and a few miles from Router anl Brown 
Willy.” 

And you, oh, who are you ? ” 

‘‘I am a young farmer. My name is 


92 


Thf; Prisoner’s Letter. 


Robert Tremain. I live at Rosecarrol, which 
is about three miles from here.” 

Hush/’ she said, don’t speak so loud. 
Mrs. Fox well watches me very closely. If 
she were to discover me here — oh, I daren’t 
think of it.” 

I listened intently, and thought I heard 
the murmur of voices in the kitchen. 

It’s all safe,” I said. Mrs. Foxwell is 
talking with Sleeman. Oh, I want to help 
you, if you will let me.” 

She was silent for a minute, while I looked 
eagerly towards her. I could not discern her 
features plainly, but I could see the dim out- 
line of her form. 

I am afraid to dare anything,” she said. 

I have been so ill, and — oh, I am sure there 
is some one coming.” 

I listened again, but could hear nothing. 

It’s all safe,” I said ; go on, tell me.” 

‘^Ho you know Edgar Trelaske?” she 
asked, suspiciously. 

^^Ho. If it was he who brought you, I 
never saw him save on that night when he 
came here.” 

^^Why should you want to help me?” 
she asked again. What am I to you? There 
is no reason why you should wish to help 
me.” 


The Prisoner’s Letter. 


98 


That night when they brought you here, 
I followed,” I replied. I heard you scream 
in the carriage, and I felt sure there was foul 
play. I saw you as you were carried into the 
house, and I made up my mind that I would 
find out what it meant. But I could not. 
Last night, however, I came here, and saw 
you looking out of the window. Your face 
was very sad, and — and I felt I would do 
anything to help you. After that I crept 
by the kitchen window and listened while 
Sleeman and Mrs. Foxwell were talking.” 

Did they say anything about me ? Do 
they know why I am kept liere ? ” 

^^No, I don’t think they know who you 
are, although they were talking about you. 
Mrs. Foxwell said you would not confide in 
her in any way. It was Sleeman who 
suggested that Mrs. Foxwell should take you 
for a walk ; that was how I came to you on 
the moors and gave you that note. Oh, I do 
want to help you.” 

Oh, thank you ; I believe you do ! ” 
do, and if you will trust in me, 
I ” 

Oh, I will — but stop. She’s coming, I’m 
sure ! There, go away. Here’s a note I’ve 
written in the hope that you might be a 
friend. Perhaps to-morrow night ” She 


94 


The Prisoner’s Letter. 


left the window before completing the 
sentence. 

Eagerly picking up the note, I went 
quickly to the tree behind which I had 
hidden myself on the night that Joyce 
Patmore was brought to Drcardowns, and 
there waited and listened. I heard no sound, 
however. All was silent as the grave. What- 
ever Joyce Patmore had heard, I could hear 
nothing. 

I did not go to the kitchen window to see 
if Slecman and Mrs. Foxwell were together, 
I did not think it best; besides, I was anxious 
to get home, to be in the secrecy of my own 
bedroom, so that I might read what she had 
written. 

Again I forgot Kezia Tamblin ; again I 
forgot all difficulties, save the difficulty of 
setting at liberty the woman I loved. Again 
my heart throbbed with a great joy — she had 
spoken to me, and she trusted me ! She 
would not have given me the letter but for 
that, and as I thought of this, I felt that my 
strength was as the strength of ten. I de- 
termined that no obstacle should keep me 
from fulfilling my purpose ; I vowed a vow 
that it should be ill with the man who stood 
in my way. A hundred times on my way 
home did I put my hand in my pocket to 


The Prisoner’s Letter. 


95 


assure mjself that her letter was safe, while 
each minute my eagerness increased to read 
what she had written. 

‘^She expects me again,” I cried; her last 
words to me were, ‘ Perhaps, to-morrow 
night.’ I will come, Joyce ; don’t fear, my 
love, I will come.” 

As soon as I arrived at the house, I went 
straight to my room, and having lit a candle, 
took her letter from my pocket and began to 
read. It lies before me as I write, Joyce’s 
first letter to me, and I copy it here word for 
word. This is how it ran ; — 

^^In the letter which you placed in my 
hand, when we were on the moors a little 
while ago, you told me that you were my 
friend, and that you wanted to help me. I 
am not sure that I can speak to you to-night 
as you suggested, so I am writing this in the 
hope that I may he able to give it you. 

“ My name is Joyce Patmore, and I was 
brought here a month ago, brought against 
my will, brought by force, and I am not sure 
of the reason why. I am quite ignorant of 
where I am^ for I was unconscious during 
nearly the whole of the journey. I am 
treated kindly here — that is, as kindly as such 
a prisoner as I can be treated. The loneliness. 


96 


The Prisoner’s Letter. 


the sense of terror, and the mystery which 
surrounds me nearly drives me mad. 

I cannot tell you more here ; but if you 
are my friend, as you say you are, I pray you, 
as I have prayed to God, to set me at liberty. 
I am friendless, I am penniless, so that I can 
do nothing ; but if you will take me from 
here, if you will help me to get away from 
the power of the man who brought me here, 
I shall never cease to thank you, never cease 
to ask God to bless you. 

I can give you no positive clue as to why 
I am thus treated ; but I cannot help think- 
ing and believing that there must have been 
some terrible reason for taking such measures 
as those taken in bringing me here. 

Oh, if you are my friend, help me, and 
deliver me from this terrible place. 

« J. P.” 

I read this letter over again and again, 
until I knew it by heart. The writing was 
clear and bold, although here and there it 
was blurred as if by tears. But it gave no 
further clue to her identity. She had told 
me nothing of her early life ; she had not 
revealed her birthplace, nor the name of the 
home from which she had been taken. Evi- 
dently she did not trust me enough to tell 


The Peisoner’s Letter. 


97 


me^ or perhaps she was afraid that by some 
means the letter might be miscarried. 

That she was a lady I did not doubt.' 
E7ery thing told me that. Reared as I was 
on the wilds which surround Brown Willy 
and Router, I had been to school, and I had 
visited my Uncle Jack, at whose house I saw 
many of the most respectable families in the 
county. But more than all I had thought of 
my mother, and Joyce Patmore reminded me 
of her. Her words and manner, excited as 
she was, were those of a girl tenderly reared ; 
her letter, written as it was under strange 
circumstances, was uiid)ubtedly that of one 
who had been well educated. Anyhow, I 
loved her more and more as I read, and my 
determinations to set her at liberty and to find 
out the secret of her imprisonment became 
stronger. 

By-and-by, however, the difficulties ap- 
peared greater. My relations towards Kezia 
Tamblin loomed up before me, while the 
difficulty of providing a safe asylum for 
Joyce Patmore, even although I might take 
her from Dreardowns, was very great. 

I was very poor ; everything reminded me 
of that ; and I knew it would be impossible 
to take her to Rosecarrol. What, then, 
should I do if I set her at liberty ? She had 

7 


98 


The Prisoner’s Letter. 


no money, I had none. Wh^t could be 
done? Yet such is the divine madness of 
love that I laughed at difficulties, and was 
willing to trust to the uncertain future. 

Still I must do something, and all that 
night, whether sleeping or waking, I was 
making plans in order to rescue Joyce 
Patmore. 

The following morning I went to Penliggle, 
the place I mentioned at the beginning of 
this history as an off farm belonging to Eo.se- 
carrol. It is nearly as lonely as Dreardowns, 
and the house there at that time was not so 
good as the one at Dreardowns. I went 
there, however, because my nurse-lived there. 
She had married one of mj father’s men, 
who had acted as a sort of manager on the 
farm, and had lived there ever since I first 
left home in order to go to school at Probus. 
If ever a servant loved a young master Sarah 
Truscott loved me. I remember very well 
how, when Hick Truscott, who had been 
courting her several years, wanted her to 
get married, she told him very plainly that 
she never would while Eobert was at home 
and wanted her. 

B’leeve you love the young maaster mor’n 
you love me, Sarah,” grumbled Hick. 

Hever you mind,” retorted Sarah 5 this 


The Prisoner’s Letter. 


99 


I know, I sha’ant git spliced till Eobert do 
go ’way to school, mind that now.” 

Neither would she; and, although she 
married him the day after I went to Probus, 
Nick stuck to it that I always stood first in 
her affections. She was about fifty at the time 
of which I write, and if report spoke truly, 
and I have a shrewd suspicion that it did, she 
kept her husband well in hand. 

Nobody do know what a boobah he’d 
make of hesself ef I ded’n taake un down a 
peg now and then,” she would say, and 
perhaps she was not far wrong. 

Sarah was a shrewd, keen-witted, sensible 
woman, while Nick was a good-tempered, 
thick-headed specimen of a country labourer. 
On ordinary occasions he was fairly discreet, 
for the simple reason that he daren’t be 
otherwise, because he stood in healthy fear 
of his wife. The way to make Nick tell all 
he knew was to give him about two quarts of 
middling strong ale, and then he took the 
world into his confidence. Owing to the 
fact that Sarah kept the purse, this happened 
but Seldom ; but it had happened on two or 
three occasions, after which for some two 
or three months Nick was never seen in 
society. 

I cpucluded that, on the whole, if any one 


100 


The Peisoner’s Letter. 


was able to help me it would be Sarah. She 
had no children, and having, as people said, 
‘^noashuns ’bove ’er staashun,’^ she kept a 
spare bedroom. I was sui’e, moreover, that 
she knew how to hold her tongue,' and, 
above all, she loved me. 

Accordingly I went to her, and found her 
busily engaged in dressmaking, for Sarah 
added to Mck’s wages by making the attire 
of several of the servant maidens in the 
district, as well as that of a few of the 
farmers’ daughters. 

I was wonderin’ when you was a cornin’, 
my deear,” was Sarah’s greeting ; but I 
spoase you’ve bin too bissy a coartin’ to care 
’bout me. But there, I he glad to zee ’ee, 
my deear.” 

I haven’t forgotten you, Sarah,” 1 said, 

even if I haven’t been.” 

^^Of course you aant, my deear; but to 
tell ’ee the truth, I thought you’d a towld 
me, and, I must zay, I baint plaised. She 
edn good ’nough for you, Eobert. You ded’n 
ought to ’ave she.” 

Sarah,” I said, ^^you don’t know all.” 

I knawd ther’ was summin’ in the 
wind.” 

*^What, Sarah?” 

*^Well, 1 knaw that Kiah Tamblin zaid 


The Prisoner’s Letter. 


101 


two montlis afore that he knawd who was 
boss ov Eosecarrol. Be I right? Es that 
the mainin’ ev et, Eobert, mj deear ? ’’ 

afraid it is, Sarah. I know I can 
trust you. You love our family, and you love 
mother as much as I do. It seems the only 
way to keep Eosecarrol in the family.” 

‘^Es et for sure now? Well, I be fine and 
sorry. I’ve saved up a few pounds, Eobert. 
ef they be ” 

^^No, Sarah, ’tis no use. Ten times your 
savings would be of no use, and yet if it 
hadn’t been for mother, I’d give it all up 
rather than marry her.” 

Would ’ee now? I do ’ear as ’ow she’s 
fairly maazed ’bout ’ee.” 

I’m afraid she is.” 

«’Fraid?” 

^‘Yes, afraid — Sa’''h, there’s something 
else. I can tell you, I know, — tell you any- 
thing, and know it will never go any further. 
I know you love me, Sarah.” 

Any one looking at her for the first time 
would never accuse her of being sentimental 
or even affectionate, but she got up from her 
chair, came to me and put her arms around 
my neck, and gave me a hug while tears 
trickled down her cheek. 

“ What es et, Eobert, my dear ? Ef ould 


102 


The Peisoner’s Letter. 


Sarah can do anything, ounly zay et and 
she’ll do it.” 

So I told Sarah what I have written in 
these pages, while she constantly interrupted 
me by ejaculations and questions. When I 
had finished she said : 

Iss, Eobert, my dear, she’s' the wawn ; 
she shud be missus of Eosecarrol.” 

But how can it be, Sarah ? Kezia is 
jealous, while old Tamblin is just longing to 
see his daughter the wife of a Tremain.” 

^^We must zee ’bout that, my dear, we 
must zee ; but fust of all, Eobert, you must 
take away poor Miss Joyce from there.” 

But where can I take her, Sarah ? ” 

Taake ’er ? Why, taake ’er ’ere, to be 
sure. I’ll never laive nobody knaw. Nobody 
do come ’ere, my dear ; and she can ’ave the 
little parlour, and the room ovver ; then you 
can come and zee ’er, caan’t ’ee now, Eobert, 
my dear? ” 

^^And Nick?” 

Nick ! ” she said, with proper scorn ; 

Nick do knaw his plaace, my deear — you 
jist be aisy ’bout Nick.” 

I left Sarah soon after, and as she had 
promised to be ready night or day, I had no 
fear about a temporary hiding-place for 
Joyce. So much scheming, however, had 


The Prisoner’s Letter. 


103 


made me wise, and although I hated the 
idea, I made up my mind to go and see Kezia 
that evening before paying another visit to 
Dreardowns. 

Kezia greeted me very coolly, when, about 
six o’clock, I arrived at The Queen’s 
Head.” 

^^Why didn’ ’ee come last night?” she 
asked. 

I parried the question as well as I could, 
which led to her putting other queries. As 
a consequence, my visit that evening was by 
no means a pleasant one, and when I left 
about eight o’clock, although there was no 
open breach between us, we were more cool 
towards each other than we had ever been 
before. 

I had not been away from the house two 
minutes, however, before I had ceased to 
think of Kezia’s anger, for the picture of 
Joyce Patmore was before me, and the last 
words she had spoken to me were ringing in 
my ears as I hurried towards Dreardowns. 


CHAPTER Yin. 


How Joyce Patmore and Robert Tremain 

WENT FROM DrEARDOWNS TO PenLIOGLE. 

I HAD scarcely reached the garden fence, 
when my heart gave a great hound. 1 saw 
Joyce Patmore’s face plainly in the lamp- 
light, saw her as she looked wistfuljy out 
into the darkness. But she was not so sad 
as when I had first seen her, the light of hope 
was in her eyes, her face was not drawn with 
pain. 

The window was, I saw, slightly open, just 
enough to ventilate the room, and I remember 
wondering at the time whether means had 
been used to keep it from opening wider. 

I made a slight noise, and then I saw to 
my great joy that she gladly welcomed my 
coming. 

I am come to take you away,” I said. 

When ? ” she asked, eagerly. 

To-night, if you will come with me,” I 
replied. ‘‘1 have arranged with my old 
nurse, who is as trusty as the sun, to give 


How Joyce and Bobeet went, &c. 105 


you a hiding-place until further arrange- 
ments can be made.” 

But how can I get away ? ” she asked. 

This window has iron bars across it, the 
door of the room is locked, and even if it were 
not the only way out of the house is by the 
stairway which leads into the kitchen where 
Mrs. Foxwell and the farmer are sitting.” 

I’ll gug them both,” I said, readily, and 
bind them hand and foot. They will lie all 
night, and not he set free till the morning. 
By that time you will be safe.” 

Oh, don’t use any violence, if you can 
help,” she whispered, anxiously. ‘‘1 could 
not bear it. Can’t you use any other 
means ?” 

I was rather glad she did not approve of 
this 1 letliod, as 1 did not wish for Sleeman 
or the woman to see me. If they did, they 
would know something of Joyce’s where- 
abouts. Besides, I did not wish to use 
violence. 

Then I’ll fetch a ladder,” I said. I’ll 
climb up and pull away those bars ; then I 
will lift you out of the window, and bring 
you down here.” 

Can you ? ” she asked, eagerly. I have 
tried to move them, but I cannot.” 

But I can,” I said. The wall is rotten. 


106 How Joyce ANr» Hobeet went 


and there’s not a man in the parish as strong 
as I. That was proved at the last wrestling.” 
I said this a little proudly^ partly because I 
wanted her to think well of me, and partly 
because I wanted her to have faith in me. 

But you will make noise ; you will arouse 
their suspicions.” 

I will see,” I said. Old Graacey Grig 
is in bed, isn’t she ? ” 

^^Yes; she came upstairs hal£-an-hour 
ago.” 

^‘Very well; be brave. Miss Joyce, make 
all the preparations you can, and then wait. 
Never fear; nothing shall harm you, and if 
God gives me strength I will set you free.” 

“ Oh, thank you ; you are kind. Be 
careful for yourself, won’t you? . That 
Sleeman is a terrible-looking man ; besides, 
there’s a dog.” 

I laughed quietly, because my heart was 
glad. She was interested in my welfare; 
she did not wish harm to hippen to me. 
Still her words made me anxious. I remem- 
bered Sleeman had a dog. It had been a 
mystery to me how I had failed to escape 
him on my previous visits. Possibly, how- 
ever, it was because 1 had not gone near the 
strawhouse in the barnyard where the dog 
usually lay ; anyhow, I had to reckon with 


FRO in Dreardowjjs to Penliogle. 107 


the brute that night, for, in order to get a 
ladder, it was necessary for me to go into the 
yard. Not that I minded him so much — that 
is, for all the harm he might do me ; I was 
rather afraid lest he should start barking 
and thus put Sleeman on the watch. 

I therefore crept quietly into the yard, and 
noted with an amount of satisfaction that 
the wind would carry any sounds which 
might be made in the mowey ” away from 
the house. Besides, I hoped that Peter 
would be sufficiently amorous that night to 
forget all else. 

I had scarcely passed the first corn mow 
(stack) when the dog saw me. He started 
up with a low growl, and began creeping 
towards me with his head close against the 
ground. 

‘‘ All right, Shep,” I said ; ‘‘ all right old 
boy. Good old dog, then.” 

But Shep knew that I did not belong to 
Dreardowns, and his growl became louder, 
while his eyes burnt red. I am sorry now 
for what followed, because I am fond of 
dogs, and can’t bear unkindness to any 
dumb animal. But I could not help it; 
Joyce Patmore’s liberty was more to me 
than all the dogs that ever barked. I had to 
make short work of Shep, therefore, and a 


108 How Joyce and Robert went 


minute later his power of barking was gone 
for ever. Knowing where a farmer always 
keeps .his ladders, I made for the spot and 
seized the one that seemed about the right 
length — that is, a fifteen staved one — and then 
made my way back to the garden again. 

By this time I began to feel excited. A 
sort of fever came over me, and had Peter 
Sleeman or any other man tried to stop me 
I should have made short work of him. I 
placed the ladder against the wall, and 
climbed up. By this time the wind blew 
loudly, and thus drowned any sounds I might 
make ; my fear now was that Mrs. Foxwell 
might come back to the room before I could 
get Joyce away. 

I found her waiting by the window. ^^Is 
all well? she asked, eagerly. 

‘‘All well,” I replied don’t be afraid.” 

I seized one of the bars. It held firmly. 
Evidently the wall was firmer than I thought. 
Not that I had any fear that I was not 
strong enough to pull them away ; I feared 
rather that the ladder would break when I 
put forth my strength. It did not, however, 
and in a few minutes the two lower bars lay 
in the garden. 

“Now, Miss Joyce,” I said, “can you 
creep through here ? ” 



“Carefully I carried her down,” — Page 109 






FEOM DrEARDOWNS TO PENLIGGLE. 109 


Without hesitating she came. Placing 
one hand in mine, which act sent a joyful 
thrill through my whole body, she crept out, 
for the bottom frame of the window was 
lifted as high as it could he. The window- 
ledge on which she stood was a good many 
feet from the ground, and I was wondering 
whether she would be hurt if she fell, be- 
cause I feared about the strength of the 
ladder. 

Look,” I said ; do you think if I went 
down that you could get on the ladder by 
yourself? I don’t know whether it is strong 
enough to bear us both.” 

I am afraid by myself,” she replied ; if 
you let me go I should fall. The wind blows 
so terribly.” 

I was almost glad she said this, because to 
hold her hand was joy beyond words to me. 

Very well, then,” I said ; ‘^perhaps it will 
bear us. There, lean as much towards me 
as you can.” 

She trusted me implicitly, and a minute 
later all her weight rested on my left hand. 
To me she seemed as light as a feather, 
although I felt the ladder bend terribly. 
Never shall I forget the joy I realised as I 
felt my arm around her. I seemed to have 
the strength of ten. Carefully I carried her 


110 How Joyce ant> Eobeet went 


down^ and a few seconds later I placed her 
on the ground. 

You are not afraid ? ” I whispered. 

Not with jou^” she replied ; ^‘but let us 
get away quickly.” 

‘^1 will carry the ladder back where I 
found it, and then, perhaps, they will think 
you Lave got away by yourself. We are 
close to the barn-yard.” 

But the dog is there,” she whispered. 
^‘1 have often heard him barking.” 

The dog won’t hurt you,” I said. 

Come.” 

I held her with one hand, while with the 
other I carried the ladder. We reached the 
yard in safety, and I had scarcely deposited 
the ladder when she gave a slight scream, 
and pointed at poor Shop’s body. 

Look ! ” she said. 

This put another thought in my mind. 
“ He’s dead,” I said. ‘‘ I must take him 
where he will tell no tales, at least for a 
time.” 

She shuddered as I took him by the leg, 
and dragged him behind me until we reached 
a big pool. I had some stout cord in my 
pocket, and with this I fastened the poor 
animal to a heavy stone, and then threw 
them both into the pool. The sound of the 


PEOM Dreaedowns TO Pknliggle. Ill 


splash had barely died away when I hnew 
that her escape had been discovered. Above 
the roaring of the wind I heard Peter 
shouting, while a woman’s cry reached our 
ears. 

Let us be away quietly,” I said ; in a 
few minutes we shall be beyond their reach.” 
I hurried her along until she was out of 
breath and then stopped. 

Shep ! Shep ! ” I heard Peter call. 

where can the dog be ? ” He had followed 
us for some distance, while the wind blew 
the sound towards us. 

Above us was the open moor, and there 
was sufficient light to discern us, if we ven- 
tured at that moment. So I crept to one of 
the many big rocks, and we hid ourselves 
behind it. 

You’d better come back, you maid,” 
Peter shouted ; ‘^you caant git away, so you’d 
better come back paiceable now. It’ll be 
wuss for ’ee ef you doan’t now.” 

Joyce Patmore nestled close to me. ^^You 
won’t let him take me, will you ? ” she said. 

I put my arm around her, and she did not 
resent my action. I’d die first ! ” I said, 
fiercely. 

She gave a sigh of relief, and my heart 
seemed too big for my bosom. It was joy 


112 How Joyce and Eobert went 


beyond words to feel that she depended on 
me, and trusted in me. 

We’ll wait here for a little while, if you 
are not afraid,” I continued. You are not 
afraid, are you ? ” 

^^Hot with you,” she said, 

^^Then,” I said, joyfully, will take you 
to Sarah Truscott, my old nurse, and she’ll 
give you a home till you care to make other 
arrangements.” 

‘‘1 will tell you everything that I can,” 
she said, ‘^then, perhaps, you will be able to 
help me to find out why I was taken here.” 
She seemed to know what was passing 
through my mind. 

Yes,” I said, and then we were quiet for 
a few seconds. 

“ It is so good of you to take such 
trouble,” she said, impulsively, after the 
silence. I — I’m a stranger to you, and yet 
you are so kind. But I sha’n’t trouble you 
long. To-morrow I can go home — if — if — ” 
but she did not finish the sentence. 

I did not answer her, because my heart 
was so sore at the thought of her leaving. 

I think I should have gone mad if you 
did not give me hope; I had begun to 
despair,” she went on. ^^I pleaded, oh! 
how I pleaded with that woman to let me go 


FEOM Breakdowns to Penliggle. 113 


but sbe would not. Sbe became angry witb 
me, too,” and sbe shuddered as if in fear. 

T was afraid of that terrible man, too,” sbe 
whispered ; be looks so dreadful ; and then 
I was in constant dread about the future. I 
did not know when those — those who brought 
me here would come, and T was not sure 
what they had in their minds. Oh, it was 
terrible! Thank you so much for helping 
me.” 

^^It has been a joy to help you,” I said. 

Look I they have a lantern now ; there it is, 
among the fir-trees. Ah I they are going to 
search the other way ; we shall soon be able 
to go now.” 

She gave a shudder. 

Are you afraid ? ” I asked. 

It is so terrible on these moors — so very 
terrible. Listen how the wind moans ; an d 
the rain is beginning to fall.” 

And you are thinly clothed, too.” 

Yes, all my clothes were in the bedroom, 
but I could not get there ; my boots are very 
thin, too.” 

Never mind,” I said. Sarah Truscott 
will help you. She’s a poor woman, but I 
think she’ll have all you need.” 

I have no money,” she said ; it was all 
taken from me 5 but I have two good rings 

8 


114 How Joyce and Eobeet went 


here — they should be worth sufficient to pay 
for all I want till I get back home.’’ 

‘^You must not think of travelling to- 
morrow; you’ll want a few days’ rest after all 
this excitement. There, we can go now. 
Will you hold fast to my arm?” 

I seemed to live a lifetime as I walked 
across the moors that night with Joyce 
Patmore resting on my arm. Never before 
did I realise such joy, such fear, and such 
anxiety ; never before did I hope so much 
from the future, never before did I dread it 
so. Never was the sky of my life so bright, 
and never had it been so dark. For when 
the joy at feeling Joyce by my side almost 
made me shout in my gladness, I remembered 
Kezia Tamblin, I thought of the debt on 
Kosecarrol, I remembered that this young 
girl, for whom I would die to serve, would 
leave me soon. 

Still it was heaven to feel her near, to 
hear her voice. As the distance between us 
and Dreardowns increased she became more 
hopeful, more confident, her dread because 
of the loneliness grew less. 

Perhaps this was because I told her of 
myself, of my boyhood, my schooldays, my 
life on the farm, and of my mother. As we 
drew near Penliggle she made me repeat the 


FROM Dreardowns TO Penliggle. 115 


story of how I came to know about her, anJ 
asked me many questions about what I had 
seen and heard. Then she asked me about 
Sarah Truscott, and what she had said, and 
then I had difficulty to keep from telling her 
of my love — ay, I wanted to tell her all my 
story as I have told it here, that she might 
understand why I had dared to try and 
rescue her. 

Perhaps it was the light from Penliggle 
that kept me from doing this ; indeed, I think 
it was this that kept her from telling me her 
story then, instead of afterwards. 

We found Sarah in a great state of excite- 
ment. She had been expecting us for hours. 
My story had aroused all the romance in the 
dear old souks nature, and she thought when 
we came that she might welcome Joyce as 
the new mistress of Eosecarrol without 
further delay. 

Bless yer ’art, my deear Miss Joyce, ’ow 
you be tremblin’. Come upstairs to waunce, 
my deear, and taake ofP they wet dabs. I’ve 
jist made a new frock for Miss Goad ovver to 
Bolventor, and it’ll suit ’ee to a T, my deear. 
Doan’t ’ee be ’fraid. Nick es gone to bed, 
and es snoiin’ like a pig. I’ve fried som’ ’am 
rasher and eggs for ’ee boath. Wait down 
here by the vire, Eobert 5 then taake off that 


116 How Joyce and Eobert went 


jacket ; I’ll bring down Nick’s Sunday wawn 
for ’ee. It’ll be rather tight^ but it must do 
for t’niglit.” 

And so the good old soul talked on, while a 
great peace came into my heart. It seemed 
like a great calm after the storm. 

A few minutes later Joyce Patmore came 
into the little parlour, and for the first time 
I saw her as she really was. I will not try 
and describe her as she appeared to me that 
night ; I could not if I tried. Even now my 
heart feels strange as I think of that moment. 
As her great dark eyes met mine, and flashed 
a look of thankfulness and hope, I knew 
that in all my life I had never seen any 
one so beautiful and so pure. The reader 
may smile at this, and say I was only a 
country lad of twenty- one, and that in my 
state of mind I was not fit to judge. 
This may be so ; but since those days, I 
have seen the beauties of Plymouth, of 
Exeter, and London, but never have I seen 
any one like her. 

And yet I felt uncomfortable, for I knew 
that her eyes were upon me. She seemed to 
want to look into the depths of my soul, and 
read my life. It was then that I felt how 
much she had trusted me, and how much 
that night’s step might mean to her, I was 


PEOM Dreaedowns TO Penliggle. 117 


afraid, too, that she would regard me as rough 
and uncouth. Who was I, that a maiden 
tenderly reared (as I was sure she was) 
should care about me ? 

You are safe now,” I said ; ^^you needn’t 
fear anything. Sarah is as faithful as 
harvest time, and I assure you that I — I 
would do anything to serve you.” 

Then her face blushed a rosy red, just like 
a June rose, and her eyes became dim with 
tears. I saw her lips tremble, too, as though 
her heart was touched, and this set my heart 
beating more wildly than ever. 

What did she think of me? I wondered. 
Did I repel her, or did she think kindly of 
me ? I believe I should have asked her, but 
Sarah came into the room, with a steaming 
plate of ham and eggs. 

Ther now, my dears, you must be wisht 
and could, and ’ungry as adgers. Now, ait 
some supper.” 

Neither of us satisfied Sarah, however — we 
were too excited to eat ; besides, Joyce was 
eager to tell her story, and I was eager to 
know it. 

Penliggle had once been a farm by itself, 
and the house was far more comfortable than 
an ordinary labourer’s cottage. Moreover, 
the room in which we sat had shutters to the 


118 Hoav Joyce and Egbert went, &c. 


window. These I closed, and then pulling 
the most comfortable chair that Sarah 
possessed close to the fire, I led Joyce to it, 
and then, Sarah having finished her duties, 
we sat down and listened to the young gill’s 
stoiy. 


CHAPTER IX. 

The Story which Joyce Patmore Told. 

HAD better tell you all about myself,” 
she be^an, ‘^then you will be able to judge 
better why I am here. My home is in 
Devonshire, on the north coast, not far from 
Ilfracombe. My mother died when I was a 
child, and my father, who was almost heart- 
broken at her death, went to Australia. He 
cared very little about me, I think, for he 
has written only about once a year, and 
never speaks of coming home. It is more 
than a year now since I heard from him. I 
have always lived with my uncle, my father’s 
elder brother. Uncle is rich, and my father 
is, I believe, poor. You see, uncle being the 
elder brother the estate fell to him ; and so, 
when my mother died, my father said he had 
nothing to keep him in England. I have 
lived very happily at Grassdale, for both my 
uncle and my cousins have been very kind to 
me.” 


120 


The Story which 


Cousins?” I said; ‘^wliat are they 
like? ” 

Well, George, the elder, I have not seen 
for two years. He quarrelled with my uncle, 
and left home. He declared that he would 
never come hack to Grassdale any more, 
while my uncle declared that he would set the 
dogs upon him if he ever came within Grass- 
mere gates. You see, George was very head- 
strong and easily roused, while my uncle is 
a man who cannot bear to be thwarted. My 
other cousin, Arthur^ is very handsome and 
very clever.” 

Will you tell me about this Arthur?” I 
said, for already I began to feel jealous of 
him. 

There is little to tell,” she replied. 

George being the eldest son, and the one 
who would inherit the estate, Arthur has 
been trained for the Bar. He has never 
liked it, however, and as he is anxious to get 
married at once, he blames his father for 
adopting a profession which, he says, will 
not bring him an income for years.” 

Who does he wish to marry ? ” I asked. 

Miss Helen Trelaske. Bodinnick lands 
join ours, and we have been friendly with 
the Trelaskes for years.” 

Yes,” I said, eagerly ; go on 1 ” 


Joyce Patmore Told. 


121 


Some time ago news came to Grassmere 
that George was dead. The letter which 
contained the information was written in 
America, and said that he had died of swamp 
fever. This made my uncle repent of the 
quarrel he had with George, and altogether 
altered his feelings towards him. He has 
never been the same man since. He thinks 
he has treated George unfairly, and I am 
sure he would sacrifice anything if he could 
only recall the angry words he spoke to 
him. 

Then a few days before I was taken here 
my uncle had a fall from his horse, and was 
brought home unconscious. He was a heavy 
man, and the doctor despaired of his recovery. 
For hours he lay unconscious, and when I 
last spoke to Dr. Gray about him he said 
he did not think Uncle George could live 
more than a few days at the outside ; not 
that the fall was so bad, but he, the doctor, 
believed that something was weighing on 
his mind, and that he did not want to live.” 

‘‘ Yes,” I said ; ‘‘ and did anything par- 
ticular happen. Miss Joyce, before you were 
taken away ? ” 

Yes. It was this way. The day when 

— when ” she shuddered as if in fear, 

*‘Yes, I understand,” I said. 


122 


The Story which 


Well, tliat day, when the postman came, 
I noticed two letters with an Australian post- 
mark. One I saw was addressed to me, and 
I felt sure it was in George’s hand-writing. 
I opened it eagerly, and found that I was 
right. He told me that he bitterly repented 
of his behaviour to his father, and that he 
was writing him, begging him for his forgive- 
ness, and that he hoped to return in a few 
weeks, when he would bring me a glad sur- 
prise. I had just time to note that the other 
letter from Australia was addressed to Uncle 
George and in my cousin’s handwriting, 
when Arthur came into the room. ^ Look, 
Arthur,’ I cried, ‘ George is not dead, after 
all; I’ve got a letter from him. He’ll be home 
in a few weeks. Here’s one for uncle, too. 
Won’t he be glad ? I’m going to take it to 
him. Isn’t it glorious ? ” 

^ Stop ! ’ said Arthur. ^ I’ll take my 
brother’s letter to father — that is, if it is my 
brother’s letter ? 

Just then a servant came, telling me that 
a new housemaid whom I thought of engag- 
ing was waiting to see me in the house- 
keeper’s room, and also that a gentleman 
wished to see Arthur. 

‘‘I went to her, leaving my cousin to 
receive his visitor. I stayed with her perhaps 


Joyce Patmoee Told. 


123 


a quarter of an hour^ and then was just going 
upstairs to see mj uncle when Arthur stopped 
me. 

^ Father is asleep,’ he said, ‘ and you 
know the doctor tells us it is very dangerous 
to waken him. I’ve got the letter here, and 
I shall take it up again in a few minutes. I 
say, Joyce, tell us what George has written 
you.’ He seemed very excited, and, naturally, 
I was excited beyond measure. 

‘^So I told him, and we talked about the 
letter which told us he was dead, and won- 
dered who wrote it. We had been talking 
about a quarter of an hour, perhaps more, 
when a servant came in, greatly excited. 

^ Miss Joyce,’ she cried, ^I’ve just seen 
old Tommy Williams. He says that poor 
Molly is taken suddenly ill, and he’s afraid 
she’ll not get over it. He was coming here 
to tell you that she wants to see you before 
she dies, and begs that you will come. She’s 
all alone, for he had no one to send, and now 
he’s gone for the doctor.’ 

‘^^Poor old Molly,’ I cried, ^I’ll go at 
once.’ Molly was once a servant at Grass- 
dale, and I had known her from childhood. 
‘ Arthur,’ I said, ^ will you tell Beel to put 
a horse into the trap and drive me over ? 
Poor old soul, she’s been ailing a long time/ 


124 


The Stout which 


‘ Beel is away/ said Arthur, strangely 
moved, I thought, ^ and you could get there 
by the time a horse is harnessed. Besides, 
you must walk through the fields.’ 

Being anxious to get to Molly, I did not 
stay to argue, but hurried off at once. I saw 
no one on the carriage drive, neither did I 
meet any one in the lane outside the gates. 
I hurried through the fields, thinking, as I 
did so, that Arthur was right about the trap, 
because the cart track to Molly’s cottage was 
a long way around. 

^^Not a soul was to be seen around the 
house ; but that was not strange, and so, re- 
membering that the poor old soul was all 
alone, I opened the cottage door and entered. 
No one was in the kitchen, but I heard Molly 
coughing in the room overhead. I was about 
to go up the narrow stairway, when I heard a 
step behind me. Before I could turn around 
to see who it was, I felt something pressed 
before my mouth, and I remember a strange 
smell. I tried to struggle, but I was power- 
less. I tried to scream, but could notj then I 
became unconscious.” 

And after that ? ” I said. 

remember nothing distinctly, until I 
found myself at the place you call Drear- 
downs, I recall what seems like a strange 


Joyce Patmore Told. 


125 


dream of riding in the dark, and I have a 
faint remembrance of strange rooms and 
strange faces, but nothing definite.’* 

And that is all ? ” 

^^That is all.” 

“ And have jou any idea — that is, can you 
guess who put the handkerchief before youi’ 
mouth in Molly’s cottage ? ” 

^‘I’ve thought of many, but I am afraid 
to — to ” 

^^It could not have been your cousin 
Arthur ? ” 

^^No, I left him in the library, and I went 
very fast to the cottage.” 

Have you an enemy ? ” 

^^Not one in the world that I know of.” 

Good Loard ! ” exclaimed Sarah, I 
wonder et ded’n drive ’ee maazed, my 
deaar.” 

I think I was almost mad for days after 
I was brought to Dreardowns. The place was 
so terribly lonely, and that Sleeman is such 
an awful man. I was ill, too, and for many 
days I thought I was going to die.” 

I know who brought you,” I said. 

Yes ? ” she said absently. 

Edgar Trelaske came with you.”. 

But what could be his motive for doing: 
60 ?” 


126 


The Story 'which 


“ I think I see that, too. Will you tell me 
all you know about him ? ” 

‘‘As I said, his estate joins my uncle’s. 
He has always been very friendly with 
Arthur, and the two have been in London 
together. Then, you know, Artliur is engaged 
to Helen Trelaske. She lives with Edgar at 
Bodinnick.” 

^^Is Trelaske wealthy? ” I asked. 

^^The old Colonel left him a good deal, 
but there have been reports about his 
squandering it. George never like him ! ” 
And you say that this Trelaske and your 
cousin are very friendly?” 

“ Very. There was scarcely a day passed 
without their meeting.” 

‘‘It’s all plain,” I said; “as plain as a 
pikestaff.” 

“ But how ? ” 

“ Can’t you see it ? ” 

“I’m afraid to think of what seems the 
only solution. I have driven it from my 
mind again and again — it seems too mean, 
too base. They are both gentlemen.” 

“Ah ! ” I said, catching my breath, “you 
are led to the same conclusion as I.” 

“What es et?” asked Sarah, excitedly; 
“ ’tes oal a riddle to me.” 

“If George were dead, of course Arthur 


Joyce Patmore Told. 


127 


would come in to all your uncle’s wealth ? ” 
I queried. 

‘‘ Yes, uncle willed nearly everything to 
him.” 

But if George came hack and became 
reconciled to your uncle, then he would take 
the greater part of it.” 

He’s the eldest son, and naturally Grass- 
dale, with all the farms belonging to it, 
would fall to him.” 

Just so, and then Arthur would not be 
in a position to marry Miss Trelaske, neither 
would he be able to get out of the money 
difficulties into which he and Trelaske have 
probably got. Have you any idea who your 
cousin’s visitor was when you were called 
away to engage the new housemaid? 
Might it not be Trelaske ? ” 

“ Very probably ; as I said, they met every 
day.” 

Is Trelaske clever ? 

Very.” 

And would know the use of such a thing 
as chloroform, as well as be able to get it ? ” 

Oh, yes ; but he has known me from a 
child and ” 

Has been in love with you ? ” I asked. 

^^No; he has been paying attentions to 
Miss Henley, of Tor Park.” 


128 


The Story which 


That’s all right/’ I said, with a sigh of 
relief, for I feared otherwise. I think the 
way is very plain. Miss Joyce.” Then I 
repeated the conversation I had heard 
between Peter Sleeman and Mrs. Foxwell. 

Then what do you think they intended 
doing with me ? ” she asked. 

They intended waiting in the hope that 
your uncle would die before your cousin 
could return, and then, when their position 
was assured, they would spirit you back in 
the same mysterious way that you were 
brought here. I should not be at all sur- 
prised to hear that your cousin was pretend- 
ing to use every means in his power to find ' 
you, so as to deceive the people in the 
neighbourhood. 

^^Then what would you suggest now?” 
she said, anxiously. 

^^It seems to me,” I replied, ^Uhat what 
is done should be done quickly. As no steps 
have been taken to set you at liberty, I 
should imagine that your uncle is still living. 
Of course, it may be too late,” and I 
reproached myself for the way I had spent 
that month when I thought of no one but 
Kezia Tamblin. 

Anyhow,” I went on, think the right 
step will be for me to take you home 


Joyce Patmore Told. 


129 


to-morrow. I can drive yon to Launceston 
in the mornings and from there we can take 
ticket to the station nearest your home.^' 
I said this with a sad hearty for the thought 
of leaving her pained me beyond words. 

“ I should be afraid to be left there now,” 
she said, with a shudder. ^^If what you 
think is true, Arthur and Trelaske would 
stop at nothing.” 

‘‘I don’t think they would dare to take any 
further steps,” I said. I should take you 
to the house boldly, and if your uncle were 
alive you would see him and tell him. Then 
the servants would protect you.’ 

I will go if you wish,” she replied, but 
I am afraid.” 

There is another course,” I said. 
could go alone, and find out how matters 
stood. I could go to-morrow morning, and 
perhaps be back again by night. You will 
be quite safe here,” I said, looking at Sarah, 
who had been eagerly drinking in every word. 

^^Saafe!” cried Sarah; ^^I’d like to zee 
anybody hurt ’ee ’ere, my dear. Besides, 
nobody’ll think you’re ’ere. Why, Nick 
shaa’n’t knaw you’re in the ’ouse, ther now, 
and he’ll never think ov axin’.” 

In this, however, Sarah was mistaken, as 
after-events proved. 


9 


130 


The Story which 


I will do wliat you think best, Mr. 
Tremain,” Joyce said, looking at me in such 
a way that my heart seemed to leap to my 
throat in very joy. 

And you can feel comfortable here ? ” 
I asked ; you can feel quite safe with 
Sarah?” 

Perfectly comfortable ; my only fear is 
that Sleeman may find out that I am here. 
He will naturally let Edgar Trelaske know I 
escaped from his house, and then — oh, you’ll 
protect me, won’t you ? ” 

Doan’t you be ’fraid. Miss Joyce. Nothin’ 
shall harm you — nothin’. Maaster Robert 
here is as strong as a hoss, and I — well, 
never mind,” and Sarah looked as though she 
could conquer an army. 

How long we talked I do not know, 
but when I left I promised to call early 
in the morning, and see wbat she had 
decided to do, while I should hold myself 
in readiness to serve her in any way I was 
able. 

I seemed to walk on enchanted ground as 
I went back to Rosecarrol that night. I had 
held in my arms the young girl I loved. I 
had jescued her from her prison. I had seen 
the look of gratitude in her eyes. I would 
uot think of Kezia Tamblin nor of my 


Joyce Patmore Told. 


131 


father’s debts. I lived in hope, and in the 
light of my love for Joyce. 

It was very late when I arrived at Pose- 
carrol, but my mother was not yet asleep. 

Come and bid me good night, Robert,” 
she said. 

I went in and kissed her. 

^‘Is all well with you, my boy ?” she asked. 

Why, mother ? ” 

My boy, I know more about things than 
you imagine. I know more of your father’s 
difficulties than you think.” 

I was silent. 

Do you love this girl Tamblin, Robert ? ” 

Why, mother ? ” 

You have seemed so strange these last 
two or three days when you have come to see 
me. Robert, my boy, if you don’t love 
her ” She hesitated. 

What, mother ? ” 

Better be poor than to marry without 
love. I would rather, terrible as it would 
be, be turned out of Rosecarrol than to see 
you marry any one you did not want. Is it 
for me, Robert ? ” 

ITl tell you all in good time, mother,” 
I said, ^^and be sure I shall love you 
whatever I do. Good-night, mother dear.” 

Can’t you trust your mother now, 


132 


The Story which 


Eobert ? ” she said. I know that we are 
in danger of being turned out of Eosecarrol ; 
can’t you tell me anything else ? ” 

Where’s father ? ” I asked. 

He’s asleep in the next room.” 

I drew a chair to her side, and told her 
everything. 

How, mother, you know all, mother,” I 
said, when we had finished, what would you 
advise me to do ? ” 

She waited a few seconds before replying, 
then she said, I can trust you, Eobert. Do 
what you think is right.” 

The next morning I rode to Penliggle while 
it was yet dark. Hick had left the house for 
Eosecarrol. He had some cattle to take to 
the butcher that day, and so had left early. 
I found Sarah eagerly awaiting me. 

She caan’t go weth ’ee, Eobert, my dear,” 
she said. 

^^Why?” 

She’ve took a bad cowld, my dear, and 
edn’t fit to travel. Don’t bother, Eobert, 
I’ll iiuss ’er so that she’ll be all right to- 
morrow. Here’s a letter she’ve write for 
^ee, Eobert, my dear, and ’ere’s another for 
her uncle.” 

I took them both, and then eagerly read 
mine. In addition to the name of the 


Joyce Patmore Told. 


133 


station nearest Grassmere, and directions as 
to how I might get there, it contained further 
expressions of her thankfulness to me. 

‘‘ If she only knew the joy she is giving 
me,” I said to myself as I rode toward 
Launceston. 


CHAPTER X. 


The J gurnet prom Cornwall to Devonshire 
AND Back. 

I HAD no definite knowledge as to when a 
train would start from Launceston for the 
station which Joyce had mentioned in her 
letter, but I had an idea there was one some- 
thing before eight in the morning. It was 
half-past six when I left Penliggle, and I 
calculated that my horse would take me to 
Launceston in an hour. It was twelve miles, 
but I felt sure that Starlight could do it. It 
was a stiff ride, however; the roads were 
very heavy, and it was dark the greater part 
of the way. It was twenty minutes past 
seven when, in the first grey of the morning, 
I saw Launceston Castle, and as I got nearer 
to the town, the people who were astir looked 
curiously at me as Starlight, covered with 
sweat, dashed along the streets. Launceston 
Station, as everybody who has been there 
knows, is in a valley half-a-mile from the 
town, with St. Stephen’s on the one side and 


The Journey from Cornwall, &c. 135 


Launceston on the other, but I got there as 
the clock pointed to half-past seven. I 
quickly found a public-house, and telling the 
ostler to feed the horse with the best and 
groom him well, I rushed to the station, and 
found that the train was just going out. 

I want to get to Ilfracombe,” I said to 
the booking-clerk. 

Jist in time,” he replied. Go straight 
to Tavistock and change. Then git in the 
train for Yeoford, and change again. The 
train’ll be waitin’ an you’ll git to Ilfracombe 
by ’bout twelve o’clock.” 

Can I get back to-night ? ” I asked. 

^ B’leeve you can,” he replied, but ax at 
Ilfracombe, there ed’n time for me to vind 
out now.” 

The train was five minutes late in starting, 
so I had time to look around, and about a 
minute before we left I saw Peter Sleeman 
ride in. 

Ah,” thought I, is he getting in this 
train ? ” But I soon saw that this was not 
his intention. 

I called a porter to me. See that man ? ” 

I said, pointing to Sleeman. 

Wot, that ugly beggar ? ” 

^^Yes. Well, I want you to watch him, 
and see what he does. Look out and see if 


186 The Tourney from Cornwall 


lie meets any one here by train, and if he 
does, try and hear what they say to each 
other.” 

What for ? ” grinned the porter, stupidly. 

‘‘Never mind. Don’t say a word about 
what I’ve said to you, and if you tell me all 
about what he does. I’ll give you half-a-crown 
when I come back. I expect to be here by 
the last train.” 

“Oal right, sur.” 

The train left the station, and I was left 
to my thoughts. I will not describe my 
journey ; enough for me to say that I got to 
the station Joj^ce had mentioned about twelve 
o’clock.” 

“ What is the last train by which I can get 
to Launceston to-night ? ” I asked the 
station-master. 

“ Twenty-six minutes past three,” he said, 
after looking at the time-table along while. 

“ And what time shall I get to Laun- 
ceston ? ” 

“ ’Bout half-past eight.” 

“ I can do it, then,” I thought, joyfully. At 
the same time I could hardly realise why I 
was there, neither could I understand the 
strange mission which I had undertaken. 

And yet I felt that what I was doing was 
for the best. All that interested Joyce in- 


TO Devonshire and Back. 


137 


terested me ; moreover, I felt that she could 
not return home until I had made it safe for 
her. 

I went to an hotel, and although I could ill 
afford it, I hired a horse. I remembered 
how little time I had, however, and so made 
myself five shillings the poorer. I easily 
found my way to Grassdale. The house was 
well known and the road was good. Close 
to the gateway leading to the house was a 
small cottage, and I thought a few judicious 
questions might do good. 

This place belongs to Squire Patmore ? ” 
I asked. 

It doth, but you caan’t zee un, he’s fine 
and poorly.” 

Perhaps the young masters are at home,” 
I ventured. 

No. Maaster George es dead, and 
Maaster Arthur got called away to-day. 
He went away in the middle ov the vore- 
noon weth Maaster Trelaske.” 

Ah,” 1 thought, ^^I’m not too late, then.” 

Well, I’ll ride up to the house. I daresay 
I can leave a message with the Squire.” 

^^Iss, I expect you cau.” 

Anxious as I was, I could not help admiring 
the rich loamy land, which stretched miles 
away on every hand. It was such a contrast 


138 The Tourney from Cornwall 


to the Altarnun Moors. There Nature was 
scanty, scrimping in her git'ts. Here she 
was bounteous, generous. Huge oaks grew 
everywhere, while the wooJ^} were not com- 
prised of stubbly growth, but of great forest 
trees. 

The servant who answered my ring eyed 
me suspiciously, and seemed to wish to know 
much about me before admitting me into the 
house. I managed to pass the ordeal, how- 
ever, and soon stood within the room which 
Joyce had described to me. 

“^Cari I see Squire Patmore?” I asked. 

^^No; he sees no visitors, he is too ill.” 

Is he too ill to receive a message ? ” 

‘^No; he has been stronger these last 
few days. I will take any message you 
please. 

Can I have a pen and paper ? ” 

She laid them before me, and left the 
room. 

I hastily scribbed a few lines as follows : — 

I wish to see you very much. I know 
where the one you have lost is staying. I 
have come from her, and have a letter from 
her in my possession. This is very urgent. 
I am a farmer’s son. My father farms one 
thousand acres of his own land. My name . 
is Eobert Tremain.” 


TO Devonshire and Back. 


139 


Then I wrote as a postscript, ^‘Your son 
George is not dead; I know something about 
him.” 

This I placed in an envelope, and then 
hesitated. Was the servant trustworthy? 
Would she be primed by Arthur? I rang 
the bell, and she came in. 

heard that there was a young lady 
living here,” I said to her, Miss Joyce 
Patmore. Can I see her ? ” 

Instantly tears started to the girl’s eyes. 
‘‘No, sir; you can’t see her,” she said, with 
a sob. 

“ Is she ill ? ” I asked. 

“No, sir; she’s gone. I do not know 
where. No one knows ; we’ve searched 
night and day.” 

I saw I could trust her. “ Give this to 
your master, immediately,” I said. “ Place 
it in no hands but his, and wait for his 
answer.” 

She looked eagerly at me. “Yery well, 
sir,” she said, and left the room. 

In three minutes she came rushing into 
the room, breathless. “Please, sir, Mr. 
Patmore will see you immediately.” A minute 
later I was in the Squire’s bedroom. 

I could see that he was greatly excited 
when I entered. His hand trembled, and the 


140 The Journey from Cornwall 


perspiration stood on liis forehead. He eyed 
me keenly, as though he would look into my 
very soul. 

You tell me strange things in this note,” 
he said. How do I know you are speaking 
the truth ? ” 

I looked around the room. A nurse was 
there, listening eagerly. 

1 want to he alone with this gentleman. 
I’ll excuse you.” 

But, sir ” she began. 

“1 wish to be alone — that is sufficient,” he 
repeated. The nurse left the room. 

^‘This letter which your niece gave me 
may tell you if I am to be trusted,” I said. 

He read it partly through, and then closed 
his eyes. I am so weak. Can you lift me 
up in bed and prop me with pillows ? ” 

I did as he asked me, and then he read 
the letter tlirough. 

Thank God,” he said, when he had 
finished; then he added, ^^and thank you, 
young man.” 

My niece tells me that you will tell me 
everything,” he continued after a few 
seconds; ^^will you kindly do sa? ” 

I told him what I have wi’itten in these 
pages — that is, I told him in bare outline, 
not hinting at my love for Joyce. God 



‘‘ He eyed me keenly, as though he would look into my 
very soul ” — Page 140. 


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TO Devonshire and Back. 141 


knows I wanted to badly, but I dared not 
then. 

You have given me new life,” he said, 
when I had finished my story ; new life. 
I shall get well, now. George alive — my 
eldest boy ! Why, he may be here any 
day ; but oh, Arthur, I did not think this 
of you ! ” 

I thought I heard a rustling near the door, 
and I remembered the look on the nurse’s 
face. So much treachery had made me 
suspicious. I went across the room and 
opened the door suddenly. The nurse was 
there listening. 

You have traitors in the house,” I said 
to the Squire. I should advise you to get 
another nurse.” 

I can act for myself now,” he cried ; I 
feel better, I feel stronger. George alive — 
George coming home ! And Joyce told you 
that Arthur had his letter ? ” 

Yes.” 

I must see about this ; I must see about 
it at once,” he said. 

^‘And Miss Joyce?” I queried, ^^what 
shall I do about her ? ” 

Bring her home — at once — no delay ! ” 
he cried; ‘^that is,” he went on, ^^if you 
will, if I may trouble you so far.” 


142 The Journey from Cornwall 


Trouble ! ” I criecl^ tlie blood rushing’ 
into my face. Trouble ! why — why I’d ” 

I checked myself, while the Squire looked 
at me keenly. 

But I must away,” I continued; the 

train leaves Station before half-past 

three, and I have only just time to get 
there.” 

You’ve a horse ? ” asked the Squire 

^^Yes.” 

Then you’ve twenty minutes to spare yet. 
Stay ; I’ve much to say to you.” 

During the next quarter of an hour he plied 
me with questions, which I answered as well 
as I could. Presently he said, Your 
journey here with my niece will be expensive. 
Are }OU well primed with money, young 
man ? ” 

I told him the truth. I was a bit ashamed, 
but I thought it best. This led to other 
questions, and five minutes later the Squire 
knew something of the position in which m3^ 
father stood ; but I uttered no woi'd about 
Kezia Tamblin, or of our connection with the 
Tamblin family. 

He took a bunch of keys from under his 
pillow. Do 3 on mind unlocking that safe? ” 
he said, pointing to one that stood close by 
his bedside. I did as he bid me. 


TO Devonshire and Back. 


143 


‘^And will you please give me that cash- 
box ? ” he said. 

I gave it to him, and he counted out twenty 
sovereigns and placed them in my hand. 
‘‘ There, we can square accounts when you 
bring Joyce,” he said. ‘^Now you must be 
off. But stay — have you had lunch ? ” 

I had forgotten all about it, and told him 
so. 

And so had I,” he said. ^^I’m sorry, but 
you are young. Thank you, Bobert Treinain ; 
you have given me new life. But I shall see 
you again to-morrow — with Jo3xe.” 

If it is in my power, sir ; but you’ll be 
careful — you’ll remember ” 

^^I’ll remember everything,” he said, 
grimly, and with an energy of which I should 
have thought him incapable an hour before. 

You needn’t fear, Robert Tremain ; you 
needn’t fear.” 

I hurried downstairs, and saw the servant 
who had shown me up anxiously awaiting 
me. 

Be careful of your master,” I said ; don’t 
trust that nurse.” 

She seemed to understand. Evidently the 
girl had her suspicions. And then I, won- 
dering at my temerity, and wondering, too, 
at the way my wits seemed to be sharpened, 


144 The Journey from Cornwall 


jumped on the horse’s back^ and galloped to 
the station. 

When I arrived at Launceston that nighty 
I had formed mj plans. Clearer and clearer 
did everything become, until I fancied I 
had giasped the whole situation. But all 
the time my heart was sad. It seemed as 
though Joyce would soon slip from me, 
while the fact of the mortgage on Rosecarrol 
and my engagement to Kezia Tamblin seemed 
to hang like a halter around my neck. I 
drove all these things from my mind when 
I got out of the train at Launceston, how- 
ever. I had my work to do, and whatever 
was the result I must do it. 

I looked around for the porter, and soon 
saw him looking eagerly for me. 

That ugly fella, sur ? ” he began. 

“Yes.” 

“Well, he send a telegram, he did. Then 
he lopped around the station.” 

“Yes.” 

Well, then a telegram come for he ’bout 
haalf-past ’leven.” 

“ Yes, go on.” 

Then at haalf-past three he wur ’ere with 
a carriage and pair, and when the train 
corned in, I seed two gents git out and spaik 
to ’im,” 


TO Devonshire and Back. 145 


Well, you listened to what they said ? ’’ 
Iss, you tould me to, but I cudden make 
much ov et out. The gents axed the ugly 
ould chap ef he’d sarched, and he said oal 
night, then they axed ef anything was bein’ 
done, and I heerd ’im zay that his hind, ani his 
wife, and Mrs. Foxey was a scourin’ the moors. 

And then the gents sweared like troopers, 
and they got into the carriage, and tould the 
coachman to drive like the wind.” 

I gave the man the half-a-crown I had 
promised him, and then I went to the stables 
where my horse was stabled. Three minutes 
later I was galloping towards my home with 
all the speed my Starlight was able to carry 
me. 

Why I could not tell, but a greit dread 
came into my heart. I was afraid of these 
two men. In all probability they would be 
Arthur Patmore and Edgar Trelaske. They 
would doubtless be desperate, and would 
move heaven and earth in order to find Joyce, 
and they had five hours’ start of me. It 
was true I told myself that Sarah was 
faithful, and that no one could know that 
Joyce was at Penliggle; but all the same, 
it seemed easy to get her. Naturally I 
thought these people would go to all the 
houses in the neighbourhood — and they were 

10 


146 The Journey prom Cornwall 


very few — and would inquire. A girl dressed 
like Joyce would be noticeable anywhere. 
Would not Sarah’s manner render that Mrs. 
Foxwell suspicious? Besides, had any one 
seen me take Joyce to Penliggle ? Or did 
Nick Truscott know of his wife’s guest? 
I thought I remembered a creaking on the 
stairs as I came out of the little parlour 
the night before. 

All this passed through my mind as I 
galloped homeward. I gave Starlight a loose 
rein, for I knew he would not fall, and I 
wanted him to know that I was in a hurry. 
Never did I feel so thankful for my horse as 
I did that night, and never did Starlight 
show his speed so grandly. 

It was just half-past nine as I galloped 
through Five Lanes, a village just above 
Altarnun, and my heart felt like lead as I 
looked away towards the moors. Try as I 
would to drive away dark thoughts, I was 
sure something was wrong ; everything told 
me that an evil thing had happened. 

I had passed through Trewint, and was 
nearing Bolventor when I saw a woman’s 
form in the road, while a woman’s voice 
screamed Stop ! ” 

I did stop, and then I recognised the 
woman as Kezia Tamblin, 


TO Devonshire and Back. 


147 


Git off, Eobert Tremain ; I’ve got summin 
to tell ’ee,” she said. 

Her voice was trembling, and the light was 
sufficiently good for me to see how excited 
she was. Almost without a thought I dis- 
mounted. 

I’ve found ’ee out,” she said ; Iss, I’ve 
found ’ee out ! ” 

“ What do you mean, Kezia ? ” I said, my 
heart becoming like lead. 

What do I mane? I knaw now why you’ve 
bin so funny thaise laast three days. I knaw 
oal ’bout it ; you came after me for my money, 
you ded, and all the time you was loppin’ 
’bout after a mazed maid over to Dreardowns, 
and you knaw you was.” 

She seemed to be in a frenzy of passion, 
and was utterly incapable of reason. 

^^You thought yerself very clever,” she 
went on. ^^You thought I should never 
knaw nothin’ ’bout it ; you done it oal on 
the sly, ded’n ’ee. Well, I’ve found ’ee out, 
Eobert Tremain, and now you shall laive 
Eosecarrol, and you’ll see who’ll be missus 
there.” 

I did not speak; indeed, at that minute 
I was too much taken aback to utter a 
word. 

^^Iss, you thought Hick Truscott didn’t 


148 The Jouhney fro:m Cornwall 


knaw, did’n and ef he ded knaw you did’n 
think he wud tell^ did ’ee ? ” 

^^Nick Truscott/’ I said, excitedly; 

surely he didn’t find out — he didn’t tell 
you, did he ? ” 

^^You do own it, then, do’ee? ” she 
shrieked in passion. ‘‘‘‘Iss, Nick tould me. 
He heerd ’ee laast night in the parlour. He 
heard all you said, and when Sarah went to 
bed she tould ’im that you was in love with 
thickey maazed maid, and that you ded’n 
want me.” 

^^How dared Nick tell you this?” I 
gasped. 

^^Why, he’d bin to the cattle market, and 
I’d heerd people say that Nick ud tell every- 
thing he knawed if you gave him a drop of 
drink, and so I jist tried for fun. Then he 
tould me everything, Robert Tremain.” 

I had no doubt she told the truth. Wild 
— mad as she was, I knew that this was the 
truth. Sarah, never dreaming that he would 
utter a word, after his hearing our conversa- 
tion in the parlour, had doubtless told him 
my story, and he, true to his reputation, had, 
after taking some drink, blurted everything 
out. 

You knaw what I tould ’ee the other 
night, Robert Tremain. I zed that ef 


TO Devonshire and Back. 


149 


another maid ded come between you and me, 

I’d kill her. Well ” 

You have not 'dared to go near her? ” I 

shouted ; if you have ” 

Kip quiet/’ she said. " Ko, I ain’t a bin 
nist her, but I wud, iss, and I was jist agoin’ 
to ’er, when Peter Sleeman and two gents 
come up in a carriage and pair.” 

You didn’t tell them ? ” I gasped. 

‘^Yes, I did,” she cried, triumphantly, 
and by this time your mazed maid es in the 
hands of her keepers again.” 

I lifted my hand to strike her — at that 
moment I should have felt a joy in doing so ; 
but I remembered that she was a woman, and 
my hanl dropped powerless. 

Without waiting a second or listening to 
the torrent of abase that she poured on me, 
I sprang on Starlight’s back and rode madly 
towards Peiiliggle. 


CHAPTER XI. 

The Steange Meeting on the Mooes. 

Dueing my ride I had time to think again. 
I wondered whether Sleeman had been to 
Dreardowns before calling at ‘^^The Queen’s 
Head,” and I wished I had asked Kezia how 
long since they had left her. However, no 
time was to be lost, and it was for me to act, 
and act quickly. If they had been to Pen- 
liggle, and had taken Joyce, then I must ride 
after them. They had not started for Laun- 
ceston or I should have met them. But 
would they go there ? Hid they know what 
steps I was taking in the matter? 

Hark ! what was that ? 

It sounded like a woman’s cry ; it echoed 
across the moor and died in the moaning of 
the wind. I dug my heels into Starlight’s 
sides — I clenched my fists nervously. And 
yet the cry gave me hope. Evidently, they 
were at their work. Hot knowing that his 
father knew his secret, and was acquainted 
with his treachery, Arthur Patmore would 


The Strange Meeting^ &c. 151 


devise some other means to save himself 
from being practically disinherited, while 
Trelaske, having compromised himself in the 
matter, would fight like grim death. 

Unmindful of every obstacle, I dashed right 
across the country. The hedges were not 
high, and Starlight cleared them easily. 
When I arrived at Penliggle, all was dark, 
all was quiet. My heart sunk like lead. 
I burst open the door and lit a match, 
and then I saw that Nick Truscott and 
Sarah lay on the ground bound. In a 
minute I had unbound them and enabled 
them to speak. 

Sarah was the first to recover herself. 

^‘Towards Bolventor by the lower cart 
track, Eobert, my deear,” she gasped; quick, 
and you’ll catch ’em I ” 

I did not wait a second, for I was afraid 
for Joyce’s safety. What they might do I 
did not know, I dared not think. I had not 
ridden far when I heard the rumble of 
wheels. I knew they must go slowly, for 
the road was bad, and, while the night was 
not very dark, I was sure they must be care- 
ful if they did not overturn the carriage. 

Grasping my heavy riding whip, I rode 
up to the carriage. At that moment I 
felt strong and determined. Never did I 


152 


The Strange Meeting 


feel so tl ankful for my strength as I did 
then ; never did I rejoice in the saying of the 
farm-labourers, that “Maaster Robert was a 
match for two men,” more than at that 
moment. Unmindful of results I lifted my 
riding whip. It had a heavy hone handle, 
and, wielded by a strong man, it was a for- 
midable weapon. I brought the handle 
heavily on the rider’s head, and without a 
sound he fell heavily on the ground. Then 
I jumped from Starlight, and held the horses’ 
heads. They were evidently tired out, and 
seemed in no hurry to move on. 

^‘What’s the matter?” shouted a voice 
from the carriage. 

^^The matter has come to an end,” was 
my reply. 

Instantly the carriage door opened. What 
do you say ? ” shouted a voice. 

You must give Miss Joyce Patmore her 
liberty,” I answered. 

Mind her, Edgar ! ” I heard a voice say, 
and then another voice came from the car- 
riage. It was Joyce’s voice saying, ‘^Robert.” 

I should have gone to her, if I had been 
able, because the sound of her voice calling 
me by my name seemed to take away my 
reason. But a man met me, a man nearly 
as tall as I. 



“ A minute later and I was fighting him.” — Page 153 













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ON THE Moors. 


158 


A minute later and I was fighting- him^ 
hand to hand_, for I had dropped my whip. 
It was a stiff tussle^ for he was a strong man, 
but I mastered him, and was about to throw 
him heavily on the ground, when I saw 
that the other had come from the carriage. 
He held something in his hand, and I saw 
that he had lifted it to strike me. He 
hesitated a second, doubtless for fear of 
striking the man with whom I was fighting, 
instead of me. Had he struck me I should 
no doubt have been disabled ; perhaps he 
might have killed me. That second’s 
hesitation, however, saved me, for before he 
could strike the blow I heard another 
woman’s scream, and I saw his arm gripped. 
Struggling as I was with the man I had 
practically conquered, I could see that the 
woman held him fast, in spite of his 
endeavours to free himself. She had 
assured my victory. I threw my opponent 
from me as only a wrestler could, and then 
rushed to the carriage. In a minute more 
Joyce Patmore was in my arms. 

I had scarcely freed her from the bonds 
which bound her, when I heard Hick Trus- 
cott’s voice shouting : “ Maaster Robert ! ” 

^^All right. Hick; come quickly/’ I 
answered back. 


154 


The Strakge Meeting 


Bj this time the man had thrown the 
woman who had saved me, from him, and 
was coming towards me. 

^^It is no use, Mr. Edgar Trelaske,” I said; 

I have been to Grassdale to-day and have 
told Mr. Patmore everything. He knows 
that George Patmore will soon be home, he 
knows what you have done with his niece. I 
tell you it is no use.” 

He stopped as though he had been shot. 
‘‘ Did you hear that, Arthur ? ” he cried. 

Yes, I heard,” was the reply, and I saw 
the man he called Arthur rise to his feet. 
That moment Nick Truscott and Sarah came 
up. 

What a fool Pve been,” I heard Edgar 
Trelaske say. ‘‘ There ! let us get away from 
here. Where’s the driver? Get up, you 
fellow!” 

The driver got up and rubbed his head. I 
had only stunned him ; the hard hat which 
he wore had broken the blow. 

I still held Joyce in my arms. She seemed 
to feel safe there, and again my heart beat 
joyfully. Where’s the woman who helped 
me ? ” I asked, looking around. 

There was no answer to my question, but 
I saw a woman slowly retreating from us. 

Who can it be ? ” I thought, and Nick 


ON THE Moors. 


155 


Truscott, as if anxious to atone for the 
trouble he had caused, ran and caught her 
by the arm. 

‘‘ Why, ’tes Kezia Tamblin ! he exclaimed. 

Yes,” she said, coming bach, and stand- 
ing before me, ’tis Kezia Tamblin.” Then 
she burst out sobbing. I cudden help tellin’ 
these men what Nick Truscott told me,” she 
continued, and I cudden help stoppin’ that 
man from hurtin’ ’ee, Robert. I said in my 
heart that I wished he would kill ’ee ; but 
when I saw him goin’ to hit ’ee, I cudden 

help ” and then she burst out sobbing 

again. 

Edgar Trelaske and Arthur Patmore took 
no notice of us — they realised that they had 
been defeated and prepared to go back to 
Launceston. 

Good-night, Kezia,” I said, feeling 
ashamed of myself for having made her think 
I had cared for her. I hope the man did 
not hurt you ? ” 

By this time her mood had changed, 
perhaps she realised that the bond between 
us had been broken. 

What do you care ? ” she cried. You 
care ’bout nothin’ but the mazed maid. I’m 
nothin’ to ’ee. Oh, I wish I had’n’ come 
here; then perhaps — perhaps — oa, I wish I 


156 


The Strange Meeting 


cud hate you_, Robert Tremain, I do ! I do ! ” 
Then she walked away without another word. 

^^Come, Miss Joyce,” I said, ^^you shall 
sleep to-night at Rosecarrol. Starlight, my 
horse, shall carry us both. Come here. 
Starlight,” and the faithful creature came 
up to me. 

^^Stop a minute, Robert Tremain,” said 
Arthur Patmore. You say you have seen 
my father at Grassdale to-day, you say he 
knows all about the letter from my brother, 
and the meaning of my cousin’s dis- 
appearance ? ” 

^^Yes,” I replied; ^^and he understands 
the whole business. I told him what your 
cousin has told me, and you know what that 
means.” 

He stood looking at me as though he would 
like to have killed me, then he turned away 
and went towards the carriage. 

Curse you ! ” he said, bitterly, as he 
slammed the carriage-door. 

I did not answer, but prepared to mount 
Starlight, when both of them came back 
again. 

Look you, Robert Tremain : is there any 
reason why the people around Grassdale 
should be told of this ? You are not a fellow 
that wants to blab, and surely Joyce does not 


01^ THE Mooes. 


157 


wish to have her affairs to be the talk of 
the countryside.” 

Arthur,” said Joyce, I shall say nothing 
unless there is a necessity for it, you know I 
will not. But if ever the time should come 
that either of you make it necessary for the 
truth to be told, I shall tell it.”* 

‘‘ And I repeat what your cousin says,” 1 
answered him as quietly as I could, though 
God knows you don’t deserve it.” 

The two went away together then, without 
speaking further to us, but I heard theui 
uttering bitter words together, as they got 
into the carriage ; even then I believe they 
would have attacked me again had they dared, 
if only out of pure revenge. 

I heard afterwards that they had a 
desperate struggle to get Joyce away from 
Sarah, for Peter Sleeman had left them at 
the cottage door, refusing to take any further 
part in the business. 

I need not try and describe my feelings as 
I rode with Joyce to Eosecarrol, neither will 
I tell of the way that my mother received 
Joyce, when I took her to her room and told 

* The time has come. I need not tell why here, 
save to say that Edgar Trelaske caused lying tales to be 
afloat, and that is partly why I ha^e written this 
0fcory, — E. T. 


158 


The Strange Meeting 


her my story. And yet_, in spite of my joy, 
my heart was sad, for as I looked at her I 
dared not think that she could ever care any- 
thing for me. Besides, my father’s anger was 
great towards me. I had driven him from 
his home, he said ; I had by my madness lost 
the land which had been in the fainily for 
generations, and added the family of 
Tremains to the list of paupers. 

I made him no answer, save to ask him 
what he would have done in my place. At 
that he looked at me strangely, and then 
went away without speaking a word. 

The next day I took Joyce to Grassdale, 
but I will not toll of the journey or of her 
meeting with her uncle. In spite of Mr. 
Patmore’s joy because of the safe return of 
his niece, he was very w'eak and despondent 
He had passed through a painful interview 
with his son Arthur a few hours before — an 
interview which had ended in the young man 
leaving his home, not to return until he had 
won his father’s respect by an altered life. 

Of the confessions which Arthur had been 
obliged to make I know little. I was led to 
understand that his career was anything but 
praiseworthy, and that his relations to Edgar 
Trelaske were of such a nature as to necessi- 
tate his departure from the country. I may 


ON THE Moors. 


169 


also state here that a few weeks later Bod- 
innick House and lands were advertised for 
sale. 

I stayed at Grassdale one nighty there 
being no means whereby I could return 
the same day. Somehow^ in spite of my 
success in bringing Joyce back to her home, 
I was gloomy and sad. Everything seemed so 
different from what I had hoped. Besides, 
I was suffering for all the excitement 
through which I had gone. Those three 
eventful days seemed like years, so much 
thought and action and anxiety had been 
Crowded into them. Joyce, too, looked pale 
and ill ; doubtless she was suffering from the 
effects of her strange experiences. 

I am sorry I have not been able to make 
things more pleasant for you, Eobert Tre- 
main,” said Mr. Patmore, just before I left ; 

but, as you know, I have been greatly 
troubled — greatly troubled. I have been ill 
for a good while, and events have been a 
little too much for me. But I shall soon be 
better; yes, I shall soon be better. You 
know how I thank you, my lad ; I cannot 

express it in words, but — but ” He 

hesitated a second, then he said, ^^TouTl 
come and see us again soon, won’t you ? Say 
a,t Christmas. 


160 


The Steange Meeting 


Thank jou, I shall be very glad,” I 
replied. 

That’s right. Things, I hope, will be 
different then — perhaps; but there, good-bye, 
thank you, and God bless you ! ” 

Joyce met me in the library ; she looked 
very pale and ill, while her lips trembled and 
her eyes were filled with tears. I longed to 
take her in my arms, and tell her that I loved 
her — longed to tell her that my life would be 
a blank until I saw her again ; but I dared 
not. It would have been unmanly to say 
this after I had rendered her a service ; 
besides, I felt that she could only think of 
me as a friend. 

When she began to tell of her thanks I 
stopped her : how could I let her continue, 
when it had been the joy of my life to 
serve her, v/lien I could no more have 
helped trying to rescue her than a bird can 
help flying ? 

I shall see you again, I hope, Mr. 
Tremain,” she said, as she held out her hand. 
She seemed to have forgotten that my name 
was Robert. 

Yes, I’m coming at Christmas,” I replied. 

I have promised your uncle.” 

Then my heart was gladdened again, for I 
saw the light of joy flash into her eyes. 


ON THE Mooes. 


161 


I arrived at Rosecarrol just before mid- 
night ; my heart heavy at the thought of the 
dark days that must come when we had to 
leave the old homestead; and yet I was 
happy ^ I thought of the coming Christmas. 


U 


CHAPTER Xn. 

How THE Mists were Cleared Away. 

For the next three days I roamed the moors 
like one demented. I felt incapable of 
work ; I had no interest in life. It seemed 
as though a blight had fallen upon me, 
and that all joy had gone for ever. I hated 
those brown lonely wastes, and yet I was 
attracted by them. Rosecarrol was hateful 
to me, and all the while I dreaded the action 
I was sure Tamblin would take. 

The day after I returned I received a 
package from Kezia Tamblin; it contained 
ihe little articles I had given her, but not a 
Une was sent with it. Evidently she was 
trying to wipe me out of the pages of her 
life. Ho message came from Hezekiah, how- 
ever; perhaps he was planning a bitter 
revenge. The second diy after I had bidden 
good-bye to Joyce, I met Peter Sleeman. I 
had been near his house, and was trying to 
live over again the experiences through 
which I had passed there. He came up to 


How THE Mists were Cleared Away. 163 


me like an angry man, and I thouglit he was 
going to pour forth a torrent of abuse. When 
we stood face to face, however, he altered his 
mind, and, after looking at me for a few 
seconds, he walked away without speaking a 
word. 

On the third day a strange man came to 
Rosecarrol, and had a long interview with 
my father. 

I expect it is Tamhlin’s lawyer,” was my 
thought, and throughout the rest of the day 
my heart was, if possible, sadder than before. 
I felt that I could not meet my father, for 
somehow it seemed to me that I had been 
guilty of causing him to lose the home he 
loved. When I returned to the house, how- 
ever, he was quite cheerful; he laughed as 
he had laughed years before, in the days 
when money difficulties did not press upon 
him. 

^^Was that Tamblin’s lawyer?”! asked 
him. 

No,. Robert lad.” 

" Who then ? ” 

He looked at me steadily for a few seconds, 
then he said, My luck has turned. Bob.” 

« How ? ” 

Mining is looking up, so are the clay- 

WOrks,” 


164 


How THE Mists 


shall be able to sell my shares in 
Polgooth; ajj and sell them. well. A new 
clay bed is opened up, too, of splendid 
quality.” 

^^You don’t mean it?” 

I do.” 

But you can’t realise at once, can you ? ” 

^^Well,” he said, after hesitating a few 
seconds, not exactly, but I’ve been able to 
transfer the mortgage on Rosecarrol, and, 
thank God, Bob, the old home is saved ! ” 
What, are you out of Tamblin’s power? ” 
Yes, my lad.” 

^^But how? ” 

He’s got all the money he advanced. Bob, 
and the deeds are safe ! ” 

But how did you manage if you are not 
able to realise on the mines and clayworks ? ” 
Never you mind, my boy. You’ll know 
all in good time.” 

I ought to have rejoiced beyond measure 
at this, but I did not. My heart was sad in 
spite of everything. 

A week later another piece of news as- 
tonished me. I heard that Kezia Tamblin 
was walking out with Tom Nicolls, of 
Trewint. Some of the gossips said that 
she had taken up with him just to spite me ; 
and others, that she had loved him all the 


WERE Cleared Away. 


165 


time, and only went with me to please her 
father. I could not help wondering at this, 
but I comforted myself that her love for me 
could not have been very deep, that it had 
only been a fancy which passed away easily. 
Moreover, I rejoiced with a great joy that I 
had not married her, even although Joyce 
could never be anything to me. I remem- 
bered her mad jealousy ; I remembered, too, 
the awful abuse she had poured upon me 
that night when she learnt I did not love 
her. And yet it was scarcely a wonder that 
she should be angry ; besides, but for her I 
might have been killed. 

Truly, a woman’s heart is past finding 
out ! But I feel I can say but little about 
this. Men’s hearts are mean enough, God 
knows, and as I thought of how I was willing 
to take the marriage vow to save Rosecarrol 
for the Tremain family, I blushed with 
shame. Still I thought more of mother 
than of Rosecarrol. 

During the weeks which intervened 
between the day of Joyce’s return to Grass- 
dale and Christmas Eve, I never heard from 
her. Not a line passed between us. For my 
own part, I was afraid to write, and I had 
great fears that she had forgotten me. 

On the morning of the day before 


166 


How THE Mists 


Christmas Eve, however, I received a note 
from Mr. Patmore. It was dated on the 
morning of the 22nd of December, and 
contained three lines: — 

We are expecting you on Wednesday. 
Don’t fail on any account ; we shall all be 
greatly disappointed if you do. The carriage 
shall meet the five o’clock train.” 

I need not say that I was early for the 
train at Launceston. Father drove me to the 
station, and although Starlight trotted splen- 
didly, he went all too slow for me. When 
I got into the carriage, my father said to me, 
^^Bob, I may as well tell you that Mr. 
Patmore has got the deeds of Eosecarrol.” 

What?” 

Yes, it was his lawyer you saw that day. 
He advanced the necessary money : bat Mr. 
Patmore has got a letter from me this morn- 
ing to say that I shall be prepared to pay him 
back in a fortnight. There’s a fortune in 
Polgooth after all, and the thousand pounds 
which I thought were lying dead are 
worth six thousand now. Bob. I thought I 
would tell you this. You will feel more 
comfortable.” 

It was six o’clock when I arrived at Grass- 
dale. I had fondly hoped that Joyce would 
meet me at the station, but the carriage was 


WERE CLEARED A WAT. 


Ib7 


quite empty as I entered it, and it was with 
many forebodings and fears that I went into 
the house half-an-hour later. 

The welcome to me was a right royal one. 
Mr. Patmore, who seemed quite recoveied, 
shook my hand with great heartiness, and 
seemed to have a difficulty to express his 
feelings of kindness; and then a surprise 
awaited me. Two men entered the room : 
the one a brown-bearded man of about fifty, 
the other a young fellow of twenty-eight or 
thirty. 

^^This,” said Mr. Patmore, placing his 
hand on the shoulder of the latter, is my 
eldest son George, and this is my brother 
Robert — he bears your name, you see.’^ 

Your brother ? ” I stammered. 

^^Yes, my brother, and Joyce’s father. 
Where is Joyce, by the way? She was here 
a minute ago.” 

Joyce came in just then, and my heart was 
all of a flutter. I can’t explain my feelings. 
Young fellows of twenty-one who have been 
in love will know all about it. 

I don’t know what I said, I don’t remem- 
ber a single word that was spoken to me. I 
just feasted my eyes on Joyce. If I had 
thought her beautiful, when, pale and fearful, 
she stood by the window at Dreardowns, what 


168 


How THE Mists 


must I think of her as she stood in the 
bright light of the room amongst her dear 
ones, her eyes shining with a new light, and 
her cheeks flushed with health and joj ? 

The evening passed swiftly away. Ho 
one was there but Joyce — at least, I thought 
not. It is true old Mr. Patmore laughed 
with great heartiness, and Joyce’s father 
told how he had bargained for and bought 
Bodinnick house and lands for himself and 
his daughter, and G-eorge told stories of 
Australia, while I pretended to listen to 
everything they said ; but all the time I saw 
no one but Joyce. 

I was wonderfully happy, and terribly 
sad. 

At one time I loved George Patmore as a 
brother, and at another I hated him because 
I thought he seemed in love with Joyce. 

By-and-by — it was close upon midnight, and 
the carol singers had gone — Joyce and I were 
together in the hall. I don’t know how it 
came about, I am sure ; I fancy I had gone 
out to see how beautiful the snow looked 
beneath the light of the moon, but it doesn’t 
matter. Joyce and I were together. 

A few minutes before I had despaired of 
ever plucking up courage to tell her what I 
wanted to tell, but now I felt I must speak. 


WERE Cleared Away. 


169 


I determined to be honest; I would hide 
nothing from her. So I began to describe 
mj father’s money difficulties. 

I think I know all about it,” she said ; 

Sarah Truscott, your old servant, told me.” 

Did she ? ” I g asped ; and did she tell 
you all the rest ? ” 

think she did,” she answered with a 

laugh. 

— I was mad,” I cried; did not know 
what I was doing. I loved Eosecarrol, and I 
loved my mother a thousand times more, so 
I — oh, I’m ashamed of myself ; but when I 
saw you, I thought of you, lived only for 
you! You hear, don’t jou?” and I caught 
her arm. 

She did not speak, but I felt her 
trembling. 

^‘Well, I needn’t tell you anything else, 
Joyce. I — I — oh, tell me something, give me 
a little hope — say, oh Joyce — tell me! I 
love you with all my life I ” 

Then she gave a little laugh that had a 
sob in it. 

Won’t you answer me, Joyce? Oh, if 
you don’t love me I must leave to-night — 
I couldn’t stay if — won’t you speak ? ” 

We were, as I said, standing in the hall, 
and it was decorated for Christmas. 


170 How THE Mists were Cleared Away. 


Must I go then ? ” I asked ; is there no 
hope for me ? ’’ 

Eobert,” she said, laughing and crying 
at the same time, don’t you see that we are 
under the mistletoe ? ” 

That is all I am going to say about the 
joy that came to me that Christmas Eve, 
while words are too poor to tell of the 
happiness that has come to me since then. 
May God make me worthy of my Joyce — she 
whom I won in dark despairing days ; she 
for whom I found it a joy to suffer and to 
fight; she who is now my wife and the 
mother of my children. 

The Eim. 






